


Familiar Shenanigans

by Hectatess



Series: Witch/Familiar Winchesters and Angels [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Happy Ending, Homophobia, John Winchester’s A+parenting, M/M, Witch/Familiar AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 25,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26695570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hectatess/pseuds/Hectatess
Summary: Dean meets a cute kitty once, twice, and then a guy in a trench coat shows up and Dean can’t believe what he has to tell...
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Charlie Bradbury & Rowena MacLeod, Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak, Past Gabriel/Rowena
Series: Witch/Familiar Winchesters and Angels [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019364
Comments: 149
Kudos: 272
Collections: DCBB 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My second DCBB. And I was so lucky! The artist I got paired with is an amazing person who made me all the gorgeous art in this fic! You can check that out [here](https://reshipkmn.tumblr.com/post/632648369479761920/my-artworks-for-deancasbigbang-and-bonus-sketches)!
> 
> Thank you so much, reshipkmn.
> 
> And thank you, Fyrexoe, for being my swift and sweet beta!

**1989**

Dean was irritated.

Dad had bailed, leaving him and Sammy alone once again. It seemed Sammy was ok with it.

Dean scoffed softly. That little nerd boy was up to his expressive eyebrows in homework. It would be a miracle if he even noticed dad was gone before the guy returned.

“Gonna take a breather, Sammy,” he called towards the kitchenette, where his brother was chewing a pencil with a concentrated look in his hazel eyes. Sammy waved in acknowledgment and Dean shrugged on his coat.

He walked until he found himself on the edge of a stream. Skipping stones over the surface, Dean grumbled his irritation to the surrounding trees.

“Mew.”

Nearly cricking his neck, Dean looked around. A little kitten sat on a nearby tree-stump, its head adorably tilted, its blue eyes in stark contrast with its black, fluffy fur. Dean sniggered, tossing the stone he had been about to skip to the side.

“Hey there, little fella. Where’s your momma then?” He cast a glance around, trying to find the mother. There was no other animal in sight. Dean sank down next to the tree stump, trailing a finger softly over the kitten’s head.

The kitten blinked owlishly, then its little body tensed and it punched out a high pitched mewl. “Meeweeuw!” it screeched. 

Dean laughed. “Y’ know... that almost sounded like you were asking me where _my_ mom was then.” He sniggered at the thought, then sobered, green eyes turning sad. “My mom died, you know. A long time ago. Almost six years. It’s just me, dad, and Sammy now. Fighting monsters. Well, at least dad and me are.” The kitten rubbed its little face against Dean’s hand, making him give a sad little smile.

“Did you know monsters are real? Dad told me. Some monster killed mom, and now we’re trying to find it. I already got rid of a ghost, and helped dad with a wendigo and some skinwalkers and black dogs.” A sudden thought hit him, and he cussed himself out. “I hope you’re not a monster, little fella. I think you’re too cute to be dangerous.” He fumbled in his back pocket, taking out a silver dollar. He rubbed the kitten with his other hand, and surreptitiously palmed the coin, letting it skim the black back. 

The kitten purred and arched its little spine up, pressing the coin into Dean’s hand. Dean grinned in relief. “Guess you’re safe, buddy.” The kitten stared up, its blue eyes intense, and if Dean was even a bit suspicious about this cat, he’d say it was assessing if he was safe too.

Dean sighed. “Wish I could take you with me, little bud. But dad will kill me.” He put his hands on his scrawny, ten-year-old hips, and pulled a frown. “It’s enough of a hassle to have two kids along, Dean. No pets, no way,” he growled in a deep voice which hurt his throat a little, trying to imitate his father. If it was possible Dean would say the kitty looked dejected. “I’m sorry, bud. I really am. Sammy would love you too.” 

He heaved a big sigh. “I gotta go, little guy. I still need to get something edible for us, and dad didn’t leave much money. So it’s improvising time. Wish I had some free fruit, like cherries or blackberries. Then I could make a pie. I found flour, sugar, and butter cheap, but fruit is expensive!” 

He glanced at the kitten and shot it a quick smile. “Guess you don’t need to worry, huh? Fish swims around for free here...” The kitten mewled then sneezed adorably, its little nose all scrunched up.

Dean laughed, head thrown back, back arched. Then he sneezed too, making him laugh even harder. When something solid hit his chest, he stopped, confused. Rubbing his chest, he glanced around.

A shiny red apple was lying on the ground. He picked it up and examined it thoroughly. “Huh. Would ya look at that? Never noticed an apple tree right over my head!” He grinned at the kitten. “Guess it’s my lucky day, huh bud?” He took off his flannel and climbed the tree, picking the ripe apples delicately so they wouldn’t bruise.

The kitten watched him, little fuzzy head tilted. Once he’d climbed down again, Dean wrapped the apples carefully in his flannel shirt. “I’m gonna make Sammy that pie now, kitty. Hope you find your momma soon.” He stroked the little black head once more and skipped off.

oooOooo

The kitten watched him go in that earnest way cats have. “Oh my word. I have my work cut out for me,” a deep voice said and if Dean would have turned, he would have seen a man staring at him, pondering.


	2. Chapter 2

**2004**

Dean rubbed his nose. It was itching. Then his eyes, they were burning. He groaned. “Damnit. So not the time to get a cold!” Sam was away at Stanford and Dean was on a solo hunt. Just a simple salt ‘n burn.

He’d already dug up the unmarked grave in the woods, but he just found out his lighter-fluid can was empty. The ghost hadn’t shown its fugly ass yet, but dollars to donuts it would do so any minute now. 

His eyes started to water and he could feel something brush his leg. Stumbling he backed up. “Mrowwwww.” Dean jumped. He couldn’t help it. He never saw a cat while coming in here, yet there it was. 

Black as the surrounding night, its eyes eerily blue in its dark face. “Don’t black ca..ha..haaaaCHOO! cats have green or amber eyes?” Dean wondered aloud. At least it explained his itchiness. He was allergic to cats.

The cat traipsed along to Dean’s duffel-bag and pawed a pocket. “Whad issid, kiddy?” Oh great! Now he sounded like he was a snot-nosed 5-year-old. The cat stared back at him with its deep blue eyes and Dean could swear it told him to get with the program and check the damn pocket. “Ids embty, I’mb sure of dat,” Dean told it, before sneezing loudly again.

The cat actually growled deep in its throat and Dean found himself fumbling with the zipper, all the while staring into those blue orbs. When his hand closed around a cold, metal rectangle, Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise. The cat looked smug as it started to lick its paw to wash itself. Pulling out a full canteen of grade A lighter fluid, Dean gaped. “How’d dat ged in dere?”

The cat suddenly got up, fur all on end, and growled warningly. Its blue eyes were menacing slits and it looked past Dean. “Oh crab... don’d dell be... Fugly showed ub,” Dean sighed miserably. The cat hissed and swiped.

Dean jumped a bit when it didn’t swipe at Fugly, but at  _ him _ , its tiny paw soft when it patted his hand. Snapped from his immobility, Dean scurried to the grave and poured the fluid over the bones. Some scuffling happened behind him, and an almost human grunt sounded out between the trees. No time to turn around, Dean lit the matchbook he’d swiped from the motel and dropped it. The inhuman screech behind him told him the ghost was done for.

Smugly he turned towards the cat, only to have his heart jump into his throat. Against a pine tree, a man lay crumpled in a heap of mud-smudged, tan trench coat. “Shid! Hey, hey buddy! You ok dere, bal?”

The man groaned and tentatively pushed himself upright. “Oof,” he grunted in a voice like old whiskey over gravel. “I really need to plan these things better.” Dean reached out for him but stalled. Beside the guy lay his trusty iron poker. The one from his duffle. The man looked at it sheepishly, then ducked his head. “I hope you don’t mind me taking that. The ghost was dangerously close to grabbing you by the neck,” he said, gravelly voice sending shivers down Dean’s spine.

“Dah... I’mb ok wiv dat. Desperade di..hi..haaachoo! dimes...” he finished lamely.

The stranger rubbed his own nose and blinked a few times.  “I... I have to go. Nice work with the ghost,” he said quickly and turned in a swish of muddy trench coat.

Dean opened and closed his mouth a few times, watching the guy walk off under the dark trees.  “Whad de Hell...” he mumbled, wiping his nose with his wrist.

oooOooo

Blue eyes watched Dean pack his stuff and fill the grave again. A dark head shook slowly, before turning away sadly. If Dean had been listening, he’d have heard a soft, if reproachful, meow.


	3. Chapter 3

**2007**

“Dude. You’re sick!” Sam exclaimed, taking in his brother’s swollen, bloodshot eyes, red, dripping nose, and puffy jawline.

“I’mb dot! I feel findh,” Dean objected vehemently. Sam just threw him a bitchface and crossed his arms. Dean threw up his arms. “Scdew you, Sambh. I ambh  _ dot _ sickh.”

After dad disappeared, the brothers had taken up their old life of living in each other’s pockets, and Dean was currently seriously regretting picking Sam up.

“Dean, get some NyQuil and sleep it off. This isn’t helping. We need to find out where we can find this werewolf!” A flash of movement behind the motel-room window, caught Dean’s, somewhat foggy, attention. Sam followed his gaze and shrugged. “‘S just a cat, Dean. Don’t try and distract me. You need to rest up!”

Dean tried to object more, but he suddenly, and loudly, sneezed, his whole body spasming. Sam gently used his giant frame to manhandle his wayward brother to the bed closest to the door and push him down. “Stay,” he intoned his irate looking brother.

Dean fidgeted, trying to get from under those big hands. “Sambeh... Lemmeh go!”  Sam simply pushed him back and sat on him.  “Oof! You yeddi!” Dean complained, writhing, but he was stuck with Sam on his thighs.

Smiling overly sweet at him, Sam pushed a quarter into the magic fingers machine and turned on the tv.  “As I said, Dean... stay. Here. ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’. Watch it. I’ll be back, and if you’re good, I’ll bring some burgers and pie.” Grumbling for show, Dean snuggled down under the comforter and watched Indy. With a nod, Sam released his brother and left.

Grumbling, Dean snuggled in the vibrations of the machine. “DyQuil...” he huffed as he glared at the tv. A knock sounded, and Dean frowned.  “Door’s oben, Dude. You shouldh kdow,” he groused, wondering what Sam might have forgotten to be back so soon. The door swung open, revealing the trenchcoated guy from that ghost hunt that had gone sideways. Only now Dean could see his face properly, and it shook him. Deep blue eyes with long, soot-colored lashes and equally dark, messy hair. Jawline you could use to slice a cucumber and very, very kissable lips. “Dude! Whad are  _ you _ doin’ here?” Dean managed, fighting a sudden rush of southward-bound blood.

The man licked his chapped lips, thoroughly distracting Dean. “It seems you have an allergy, Dean,” Trenchcoat-guy said, blue eyes laser-focused on him.

Dean scoffed, sniffling loudly. “Duh, bud. Bery obserbing of you,” he snarked, before sneezing again. The man squinted his eyes and tilted his head. Dean did not find that adorable, no, nuh-uh.

“What do you need Dean?” the man asked quietly, but insistent.

“Deed? I deed do gedh ridh of dis allergy,” Dean groused, making the man quirk up one corner of his mouth a bit.

“I see,” he rumbled. “We should be able to do that. It would make interactions between us more intelligible.”

Shaking his dazed head in confusion, Dean frowned. “Whad?”

Trenchcoat-guy just frowned and took his hand.  “I need you to concentrate on feeling well. Unaffected by allergies, like you were when we first met.” Trying to pull his hand free, Dean scrunched up his nose.

“Waid, whad?” he managed before the guy put two cool fingers against his brow.

“You were ten, Dean. Do try,” that gravelly voice soothingly intoned. Dean was lost at sea as to when they would have met then, but he did remember only getting the allergy after he was ten. So, he tried to remember. The hot ( _ Shut up brain! _ ) guy closed those deep blue eyes in concentration. An itch started to build up in Dean’s nose, and he twitched it, not daring to move. Trenchcoat-guy sniffed, then twitched his nose too.

Dean smiled at how cute he looked, then cussed himself out. He was supposed to concentrate. Forcing his mind back on interacting with cats and not clogging up and sneezing, Dean closed his eyes. The sneeze still caught him by surprise, but it was too loud, almost like it was two people sneezing. He opened his eyes, only to catch Trenchcoat-guy pinching his nose. “There, that should be enough, Dean,” he stated, then sighed. “We need to talk.”

Dean nodded his, surprisingly clear, head. “Might be wise... Hey! My nose is clear! How’d that happen?” he happily noted.

The blue-eyed man rolled his eyes. “How are you so unaware? It is very vexing! I have not waited over a century for this!”

Dean blinked, even though his eyes were fine and no longer gritty. “Wait, what? A century? You’re joking...”

The look he got from those amazing blue eyes was equal parts exasperated and impatient.  “I rarely joke, Dean. Seriously, what do they teach Witches these days?”

Dean held up a hand, stopping the guy’s rant.  “W..Witches? No way, pal. I am not a frikken Witch. I  _ hunt _ Witches,” he clearly stated, stomach rebelling against the mere thought of being one of those creeps. “I know they make all kinds of unsavory deals with demons to get their powers. No way in any of the planes of existence that I would even try such a stupid, asshat idea. 

If he’d thought that would convince the trenchcoat-guy, he had another thing coming.

The guy merely crossed his arms over his chest and stared at him, waiting for him to be silent. “I have noticed you and your brother are hunters,” he admitted stoically. “And I couldn’t be happier. It means you know about the dangerous creatures on this Earth. But you do not know everything. Witches, natural ones, are not the result of a demon-deal. They are born with the power to manipulate the elements of, and the dimensions around, the Earth. They can perform magic without borrowing power from demons, like second-hand Witches. Often, they are more powerful too.” 

Caught in those blue eyes, Dean just sat and listened as the guy kept up his explanation. “In hindsight, considering your father’s misconceptions about the cause of your mother’s demise, I am not surprised you are still unaware of you and your brother’s abilities,” he stated, a frown furrowing his brow 

Dean opened and closed his mouth several times, but he couldn’t say a word. This was not happening. Abilities? Him and Sammy? No frikken way! “I don’t wanna be a Witch,” Dean finally blurted out. “They do all these creepy things with bodily fluids and bones and hair and... yuck!” He gave a full shiver at the thought of even considering making a hex-bag. 

The dark-haired man didn’t just roll his blue eyes, he let his head follow the motion, before fixing Dean with a disbelieving stare. “Didn’t I  _ just _ say natural Witches do not borrow their power from demons?” he intoned seriously. “A natural Witch does not need those crutches you just mentioned. If, and when, they use tools like hex-bags and spells, they use simple ingredients, like herbs, feathers, and the shed skin of a snake. Things one can pick up by bending over next to the roadside.”

That actually made Dean feel a little less freaked out. “So, these erm... natural Witches, they don’t use black magic?” he finally dared to ask.

That earned him a sigh, but also an appreciative glance. “Magic in and of itself is neutral. The intention with which it is used lends it colour. Of course, there are those few natural-born that stray. But most just use their gifts for simple things and good causes. Your mother was particularly gifted with...”

Dean held up both his hands, interrupting the man. “Wait wait wait... my  _ mom _ ? You’re telling me she was a  _ Witch _ ?”

A sincere nod. “Yes. And a particularly gifted one. Even without a familiar, she was able to perform complicated healing magic. Or so I heard.”

Glad he was already sitting, Dean rubbed a hand over his face. “Mom. A Witch. A very powerful, healing Witch,” he mumbled, eyes out of focus. “And Dad never even noticed?” The man made a questioning gesture towards the bed and Dean nodded. “Sure, have a seat,” Dean offered wryly. “I don’t think you’re here to kill me, since you could have just let that ghost get me.”

With something close to a smile, the guy sat down on the edge of Dean’s mattress.

“That’s an astute assumption,” he said with twinkling eyes. “As for your father: he did not notice. Remember that he only became a hunter to avenge your mother. Before that, he was just a retired marine, working in automotive mechanics. He never even knew about you and Sam having abilities. If your mother was going to follow the usual way of teaching, she would have started your education once you had turned five.”

Dean leaned back, his head thumping against the headboard. “Five... imagine that. Only two and a half months. Why did she die anyway?”

That sobered the man next to him and that mesmerizing twinkle vanished from his eyes.

“I can only tell you what I heard. There is next to no way to know for sure,” he offered.

“Of course,” Dean sighed. “When will things be easy for once? Go ahead... tell me the scuttlebutt.”

After a confused glance, the man ran a hand through his hair, tousling the locks even worse.

“The story goes that a demon-prince, Azazel, saw the potential in you and your brother, and tried to get your mother to let him ‘educate’ you. He posed as a natural Witch from a long-forgotten coven, hoping she would be gullible enough to not question him.”

Dean scoffed. “What little I remember from my mom, she was one smart cookie, and not gullible at all. He sure was off with his assumption.”

“He certainly was,” agreed the stranger. “Mary was a Campbell by birth, and as such a very intuitive Witch, with a very astute knowledge of how evil feels, smells and sounds. Her father and mother taught her well. So when he visited your home on Samhain that year, having tricked your father in allowing him access to the house, she instantly knew he was bad news. She adamantly refused to listen to him, and all but threw him out. Enraged, Azazel tried to abduct your brother from his crib two days later, desperate to have at least one of you in his clutches. Your mother challenged him, and he bested her. The ensuing fire destroyed all evidence of supernatural meddling, but your father had caught a glimpse of something, which made him into the revenge-seeking man he is now.”

Rubbing two hands over his mouth and towards his throat, Dean took a deep, steadying breath.

“And you know all of this, how?” he asked.

“Once we had met, I knew I had found my Witch, so I found out who you were, and told my older brother, who blanched at your name and told me our cousin Balthazar is with your grandfather since before this all happened. The Campbells had severed all ties with your father, faking their deaths, to ensure they could never give any information about you and Sam.”

“With gramps? What do you mean ‘with gramps’?” Dean wondered.

Blue eyes caught his own in an insanely intense stare. “As his familiar. I thought you understood what I am.”


	4. Chapter 4

“F..familiar? What in the...” Dean stammered.

Suddenly the guy slumped, hands to his face, rubbing slowly.  “Oh my. I have screwed up, haven’t I? Can I please start over?” he pleaded, blue eyes begging.

Even hardened as Dean was by Sam’s patented use of the puppy eyes, he crumbled. “Sure, how about starting with your name?” he offered with a soft smile.

That got him a shocked stare. “I hadn’t even... oh my stars! I am sorry!” Suddenly the guy stood, hand outstretched for a shake. Cautiously, but with a smile tugging at his mouth, Dean took the warm hand in his. “Hello, Dean,” the man said in that sexy voice. “I am Castiel. As a familiar, I hereby offer myself to you to be yours.”

Ears burning, Dean shook the hand once. To him, that had sounded way sexier than Castiel probably meant it. “Erhm... offering yourself... to be... mine?” he managed.

“Yes. Familiars are descendants from creatures that ran from Avalon because they dared affiliate with natural Witches, helping them hone and focus their magic. The king of the faeries, Oberon, was very displeased and to hide from him, the familiars changed shape as they fled. All familiars can shape-shift between a human form and an animal. Balthazar’s alternate form is a lizard. An iguana to be precise.”

Something stirred in Dean’s memories. “Iguana... right. Zar! Gramps had an iguana he called Zar. So... that was your cousin?” Castiel nodded once, and Dean smirked. “I always thought that thing looked like he didn’t like me.”

Chuckling, Castiel shook his head. “Zar wouldn’t care one way or the other. He is happy with his Witch. He feels above us ‘young ones’.”

Pouting in thought, Dean shrugged. “To each his own, I guess. Does gran have a familiar too?”

That had Castiel smile a bit nostalgically. “Yes,” he answered. “A crow called Meg. She doesn’t come in much, but she does live in the nearby forest.”

That explained a few things to Dean. “So that’s why gran always put out a bowl of pork chuck at night.”

“Yes. Meg is a picky eater, even as a crow.”

Eyeing the guy up and down, Dean tried to imagine him as an animal. Maybe a beautiful, black wolf, or a bear... He sure looked badass enough, in a dorky way.  “Soooo...What’s your animal?” he finally asked.

Castiel blinked those blue eyes at him, and all of a sudden a sleek, black cat looked up at Dean with those same, intense blue eyes. Of course.  _ That’s _ why Dean had reacted so violently when the guy was near him! Dean felt he should say something about the cat, to assure him Dean wasn’t disgusted by his form. “You look very handsome, Cas. Lithe and deadly,” he offered, thinking Cas was basically a miniature black panther. Cas managed to look smug as he licked a black paw, and Dean smiled. “And now I recognize you. You helped me with the lighter-fluid... wait. Did we.... magic that there?”

Cas nodded, and regained his human form. “Yes. We did not create it before you assume that. We merely translocated it. The apples for Sam’s pie, we helped mature faster, so you could eat them.”

Dean blinked. “Apples... oh my God!” he gasped. “The kitty at the stream! That was you too?”

Nodding, Cas smiled. “I made sure my appearance was the appropriate age for you. As a child, you were likely to be more enamored with a kitten than with a mature cat. As an adult, I did not have to take that precaution.”

Dean smirked.

The sound of the Impala driving over the parking lot gravel snapped him out of it. “Oh crap! Sam! He might react a bit... protectively to a strange guy being here...” he panicked. Cas just tilted his head and morphed, jumping on the bed and sitting next to Dean, resembling a statue of Bast, except that he was breathing and had blue eyes.

The door to the room was slammed open and Sam came in, hair in disarray and arms full of... fur?

“Dean,” Sam panted, worry pouring off him like water. “I think I hit him!” He hurried over to the bed, showing Dean the bundle of wet, muddied fur. A low mrow made him twitch and look at Cas. The familiar had his blue eyes trained on the bundle in Sam’s arms and if Dean didn’t know any better, he’d say Cas looked... exasperated?

Sam blinked at Cas, then tugged the bundle of fur tight against his chest. “A cat? Dean... your allergies...” he started, but Dean held up his hand. 

“I’m fine, Sam. Now show me. What’s that?” Carefully, Sam bent back down, wary eyes on Cas, who rolled his own eyes and curled up into a sleek, black ball.

“It’s a dog. Dean, I was just driving and suddenly I heard this yelp... and there he was, lying on the road behind me. I think I hit him...” He stretched his arms further, and the bundle of fur turned out to be a corgi. Caramel and white fur muddied, but not bloody. Actually, there were no signs that he’d been hit at all. Dean prodded softly, palpating the short legs, the hips, the cute head, but the animal didn’t react. It did breathe, and somehow Dean felt it was having them on.

He sat back and absentmindedly stroked Cas over his black back. “He looks fine to me, Sammy. Maybe he ran out and hit his little head on the rear of Baby. Corgis aren’t very smart dogs.”

Cas lifted his head, looking smug. “Mmmrrrrrr.” he offered. It sounded like he agreed, and Dean chuckled.

The dog suddenly wriggled and raised its head, ears pricking up and golden eyes finding Cas unerringly. It whuffed softly. “Oh, shit!” Sam exclaimed, grabbing a firmer hold of the canine. “This could get ugly. Cat and dog,” he clarified.

Dean observed Cas, who imperiously yawned, baring a couple of needle-sharp fangs, and blinked up at him.

“You’re not worried, are you, bud?” Dean smirked. “So, am I correct in assuming this dog is no bother to you?” Cas tilted his head, purred and tucked his nose under his tail, blue eyes closing.

Sam huffed out a laugh. “That must be the most stoic cat I have ever seen. Especially around a strange dog.” The dog made a content noise and snuggled down in Sam’s arms, not even looking at Cas anymore.

Cas spat very softly like he was tisking at the dog, making Dean chuckle. “I have a feeling these two know each other better than you might think, Sammy,” he stated, petting Cas, and then the dog. “So. Eats! What did you bring?” he distracted his brother.


	5. Chapter 5

Regarding the dog in his arms with worried eyes, Sam straightened up. “Burgers, like I promised. And pie. Apple.” Dean beamed and got up. Cas made a soft sound, close to chuckling, and Dean grinned at him. Sam cast curious looks at the cat.

“You’re a gem, Sammy,” Dean called out, to have Sam focus on him again. “Put the dog next to the cat, and let’s eat!” Sam looked doubtful, but the fact that neither animal so much as looked at the other reassured him, and he gently laid the dog next to Cas. They touched noses, and as the dog whuffed once, Cas purred low.

Satisfied the ‘animals’ weren’t about to tear into each other, Sam finally came to the table and unpacked the food. “Double bacon and cheese cheeseburger,” Sam started calling off, as he took each out of the bag. “A beer, aaaaaaand an extra big slice of apple pie for my sick brother... Who somehow doesn’t look sick anymore... Dean...”

Taking a big bite of his burger, Dean grinned. He munched and swallowed with a happy noise.

“Hm. Told ya, Sammy. Not sick. I took my anti-histamine as soon as I saw the cat, and I’m just peachy!” Cas meowed low, not looking up. To Dean, it sounded insulted and he found himself thinking an apology at his new friend.

_ ‘I’m sorry, buddy. But... I have to ease Sammy into this. I can’t just drop a bomb like that on him. He might think you cast a spell on me. I don’t want that. I want you two to become friends.’ _

Cas looked up, his blue eyes clear and sentient as he stared directly into Dean’s.  _ ‘That is a smart move. I shall inform Gabriel of this development.’ _ Cas’s voice was clear as a bell in Dean’s mind and he nearly choked on his burger.

Chuckling, Sam handed him a napkin. “You should learn to chew your food. You’re a grown man, Dean,” Sam teased, unaware of the telepathic link that just happened around him.

Cas sat up straight, jostling the dog, who Dean assumed to be Gabriel, whoever that was.  _ ‘You... you heard me?’  _ Cas sounded genuinely surprised.  _ ‘That is impossible! It would mean we have a... a certain... bond already. That is unheard of!’  _ Feeling a blush rise at those words, Dean pretended to still be coughing. Bond? As in... deeper connection? Hell, he thought Cas, human-shaped Cas, sexy as fuck, but to be claiming a bond... Geez, that would be quick!

“Dude, you ok?” Sam asked, worried. The corgi whuffed haughtily and Dean threw it a look.

“Yeah, Sam. I’m fine,” he answered, still glaring at the corgi, who lolled his tongue out of his muzzle in a doggy grin. “It was just a bit of lettuce going down the wrong way. Should be ok now.”

If this dog really was a familiar, like Cas, Dean mused, he would be an annoying, bouncy guy, assuming their gender stayed the same. Cas nudged the dog against its head and demanded its attention. The dog turned to him, after winking at Dean. Yup, annoying...

The animals stayed nose to nose for a while. Long enough to make Sam smile and let out a soft “aaaawww.” and for Dean to get suspicious that they might be ‘talking’ to each other.

Munching on his salad, Sam grinned at Dean, who kept eyeing the familiars. “They are unexpectedly cute together. Who’d have thought, huh?” Sam said, licking the dressing from the corner of his mouth.

The corgi whined softly, making Sam get up and check on it. “Aw. Hey there little fella. Are you hurting? Can you tell me where you’re hurting?” he cooed softly and Dean had to record this, so he got his phone out. Petting the dog, Sam dropped his voice another octave, and he softly crooned at the dog. “Yeah... nasty old Sam hit you with that big car, didn’t he? Are you still in pain, buddy? Awww, yeah, you’re a good boy...” He scratched those pointy ears and the dog unabashedly rolled onto his back.

_ ‘Yeah, definitely a he,’  _ Dean thought wryly as Sam scratched the dog on his belly, careful to not hit certain parts.

“Oooowwww are you such a cutie. Yeah you are,” Sam kept cooing, as the dog paddled his short, stubby legs and let its tongue lol out.

Cas gave the pair a haughty look and padded over the bed, jumped on the floor, and circled Dean’s legs. 

Dean stopped his filming to pay attention to Cas.  _ ‘Trust my brother to milk this for all it’s worth.’  _ Cas growled inside Dean’s brain, making him bite his lip. _ ‘He only whined because Sam licked his lips. He thinks Sam is, and I quote: “a hunky piece of beefcake, whom Gabriel would like to climb like the tree he is.” End quote.’ _

Dean had just taken a chug of his beer, which ended up showering Cas, who glared up at him.

“Oh God... I’m sorry Cas,” Dean quickly apologized. “But...” He collapsed in helpless laughter.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam stared at him as if Dean had just told him he wanted to see Bobby in a banana-hammock. “Dude, why are you channeling your inner-hyena?” Sam asked, dumbfounded, his hand still scratching Gabriel’s chest and tummy. Dean tried to answer, he honestly did, but the idea of Sam ignorantly giving Gabriel exactly what he desired, had him fold over again and sink to the floor, laughter silent by now. Tears were sliding from the corners of his eyes, down his cheeks and he just couldn’t stop.

Cas wandered around his hunched form, pressing his sleek head against Dean in worry.

“Dean... Dean! C’mon man!” Sam called. “You’re worrying the cat... Which, by the way,  _ why _ do we have a cat all of a sudden?”

Dean gasped a few times, stroked Cas across the back, and pushed himself up. “Eh...Eheheh.... heeeeehhhh. I’m sorry, Sam. I just...” He caught sight of Gabriel, watching him intently, with mischievous golden eyes and he nearly burst out again. “It... never mind. I’m good,” he gasped, pointedly ignoring Gabriel for now. “As for the cat... he just walked right in and made himself at home.” That earned him a haughty blue glare and the sight of Cas’ tail. “But I like him. I feel....a connection. I don’t know. But I think I might wanna keep him.” He stroked the black head that bumped against his hand. 

_ ‘Thank you, Dean. I like you too.’ _ Cas’ voice rumbled in his mind, causing his insides to glow warmly.

Sam stared. “You... you do. You like him. A cat. You’ll happily take a pill every three hours to keep him around.” Crap. The allergy... Dean had forgotten it already. Sam gave him a suspicious glance and Dean ducked his head. 

“Yeah... Yeah, I would. This cat is special, Sam.”

Sam narrowed his eyes in a calculating way.  “Ooohhhhkeeeyyy,” he drawled out. “Then I can keep this dog!” Dean glanced at Gabriel, who blinked innocently, and back at Sam, who looked super happy at the prospect of finally having a dog.

Then he turned to face Cas, who patiently looked up at him.  _ ‘I think Gabriel and Sam are quite compatible, to be frank, Dean.’ _

Dean smiled warmly at him, then winked.  He put on a big show of sighing and grumbling. “I guess so. Sure, you can keep the mutt. It would be nice for Cas to have a brother with him.”

That got him two reactions, Gabriel whuffed in indignation at the moniker ‘mutt’, and Sam’s eyebrows shot so far up, they got lost under his hair.

“Cas? You named the cat Cas? And brother? You do realize they are a different species, don’t you?” Gabriel’s tongue hung out the side of his mouth in a huge, doggy grin. Cas looked at Dean with his crystalline eyes before starting to clean the beer from his fur with disgusted little growls and murrs, and Dean heaved a big sigh. 

“Oh yeah, Sammy. Totally different species. I’m well aware.”


	7. Chapter 7

_ ‘Dean, you cannot keep this, us, a secret from Sam. He and Gabriel need to work together, see if there is a bond,’ _ Cas told Dean, whilst they were watching their brothers roughhousing. Gabriel was tugging fiercely at an old sock in which Sam had stuffed an old tennis ball he’d found under the tv cabinet.

Sighing, Dean took another pull from his beer. 

_ ‘I know, Cas, but I’m not even used to this... to being... that, yet. I just want Sam to have a good time with Gabe, before we drop that one on him.’ _

Cas purred loudly as he curled up on Dean’s shoulders.  _ ‘You tend to give people nicknames. Have you noticed?’ _ he observed quietly, purring increasing as Dean scratched his neck.

“Hmhm.” Dean hummed distractedly, sipping more beer. 

When the sock got torn, Dean clapped his hands, making Cas and Gabriel sit up in alarm. “Ok. And that signals bedtime fellas. We still need to gank us a werewolf tomorrow night. Sam, the dog is yours, time to walk him, bud.”

Instead of the whine and grumble he’d expected, Dean got a cheery “Ok then! C’mon boy! Wanna go walkies?” and Sam coaxed Gabriel to the door, leaving Dean alone with Cas. Dean stared at the door, deep in thought.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Cas’ gravelly voice broke the silence and Dean whirled around to find the man perched on the edge of his bed once more.

“What do you mean, unexpected?” he asked, throat dry at the sight of that messy hair and those blue eyes, now in a human face. ( _ A very beautiful human face... shut up brain! _ )

Cas twitched the corner of his mouth. “Gabriel and Sam. If I didn’t know my brother, I would call it one Hell of a coincidence.”

Frowning, Dean narrowed his eyes. “Meaning...?” he asked, suspicion clearly audible.

Cas shrugged. “Gabriel is a Trickster. Not the demigod, just the disposition. Do not let his cute, corgi-self fool you, Dean. He is wily and manipulative. I would be willing to bet any money I have that he deliberately tricked Sam into believing he had hit him.”

Dean’s eyebrows neared his hairline. “What? Why?” Cas rubbed his mouth with one hand, making Dean wish it was him, feeling the slight stubble scratch his palm.

“Sam is another very powerful Witch, Dean. And Gabriel has felt a connection, as you would put it, between them. Where I had the nerve to finally approach you as a human, Gabriel likes to err on the side of caution. One too many bad outcomes, I’m afraid. He is an impulsive person.”

Dean gulped. “You’ve... connected... to other Witches before?” he wavered.

Sapphire eyes caught emerald. “Not me. You’re my first,” Cas admitted, a faint blush on his cheeks. “Gabriel has. Several times, but he is quite older than me.”

That had Dean frown. Hunting with a middle-aged guy, even if he was a familiar and probably immortal, nah. Immortal. That was a whole new tangent. “How old are you…. Give or take?” Dean prompted Cas.

Cas rubbed his neck and looked sideways.

“Thrhndrdtrtfr,” he murmured softly.

Dean cocked his ear at him, cupping it with his hand for good measure. “What was that?” he cajoled with a faux-innocent expression.

Sighing, Cas finally looked at him again. “Three hundred and thirty-four,” he ground out, cheeks aflame by now.

Dean gaped.  _ “Three HUNDRED and THIRTY-FOUR?!” _ he punched out, eyes nearly bugging.  “You’re over three centuries old?”

Cas clenched his jaws, muscle jumping. “It is not of import, Dean,” he bit.

The sheer number still making him reel, Dean sat down on the bed, next to Cas. “Dude,” he said in awe. “And I’m your first Witch? Ever?” What did you do all those eons?”

Clearly not at ease with the tone and the subject, Cas glared at him. “I studied, Dean,” he said with emphasis. “I learned how to control my magic and that of any Witch. Let me say it was tough. Aunt Amara did not tolerate failure. She gave my brother Lucifer a brand when he said he’d rather work with a second-hand Witch, as their magic is easier to manipulate. Anyone seeing that brand on him, any familiar, any Witch with the basic teachings, will know to steer clear of him.”

That worried Dean. He hadn’t even had the basics. If this Lucifer ( _ Seriously, who called their kid that? _ ) was to show up, how would he, or Sam, know he was dangerous? Sensing Dean’s unease, Cas put a hand on his knee. “Not to worry, Dean,” he comforted, softly squeezing the knee. “I know of a natural Witch, who will gladly teach any natural the basics if they somehow were unable to learn from their parents.” That would be amazing, Dean had to agree. What also would be amazing, if Cas would never, ever let go of Dean’s knee again. Their eyes locked and they just stared, Dean vaguely wondering how many shades of blue were in Cas’ eyes.

A shrill whistling came nearer and the moment shattered. “I believe our brothers are returning,” Cas said redundantly. “I shall shift, and you should get ready for bed. I will discuss things with Gabriel, make sure he knows about the situation we have found ourselves in.” Dean nodded silently, and Cas morphed back to his cat form. Just in time too.

The door opened and Gabriel came bouncing in as fast as his little legs could carry him, jumping on the bed, pushing Cas, who pretended to be rudely awakened by him, with his nose. Sam was grinning, but he winced at the thunder brewing on his brother’s face.

“C’mon buddy!” he called. “Off the beds now. The two-legged beings use those to sleep. And we, especially Dean, do not like to have it all rumpled before we get in.” Gabriel plopped down on his belly and whined softly. Dean glared at him.

Gabe pulled the puppy-dog eyes card, but Dean had lived with Sam for 26 years now. He was pretty used to that one.

“Off!” he ordered, pointing to the floor. “Or I swear, you’re getting a nice collar and leash, and I will tie you up every night.” In his mind, an idea grew.  _ ‘Maybe I can make them enchanted, so he will have to stay a dog until I take it off…’  _ Cas stared him down.  _ ‘Ok, ok,’ _ Dean relented reluctantly.  _ ‘I won’t.’ _ He picked the cat up and looked into its eyes.  _ ‘But you’ve gotta admit: it would have its merits…’  _ he teased Cas.

Cas pretended to ponder that.  _ ‘Yes. I have to concede. It would… Let me think on that.’ _

Dean chuckled heartily, and booped Cas on his kitty-nose.


	8. Chapter 8

Meanwhile, Sam had picked Gabriel from the bed and spun him around. “Once I’m dressed for the night, and in my bed, you can sleep on the floor next to me,” he promised the dog. Gabriel gave him a doggy grin. Sam put him down, gathered his pajama pants and shirt and padded towards the bathroom. Dejectedly putting his head between his paws, Gabriel threw the closed door some serious puppy-dog eyes.

As soon as the water started, there was no dog. Instead there lay a 5’7” guy with the same golden eyes and caramel hair. He sighed sadly.  “That would have been a sight...” he mused, still looking at the door.

“Hey!” Dean called, lowering his voice, so Sam couldn’t hear him, snapping Gabriel out of his reverie. “That’s still my baby brother you’re talking about.”

The guy crossed his arms and gave Dean a leveled stare. “And  _ you _ just booped  _ my _ baby brother on the nose, bucko.” A sassy smirk curled his lips. “What’s with that, Cassie? You never let anyone just boop you.”

An annoyed sigh came from behind Dean, indicating Cas was back to being human.

Through the closed door, the sounds of some slightly off-key rendition of R.E.O. Speedwagon warbled. Keeping his voice low, Dean looked at both familiars in turn and hummed. “Right. We have about seven minutes before he is done,” he urged. “Gabe, I take it Cas has told you some stuff already?”

Golden eyes wide, Gabriel blinked. “Gabe? Cas? You’re free with the nicknames, aren’t you, bucko?”

Cas scoffed. “You’re one to talk, Gabriel. In the first five minutes we talked, you called him Dean-o several times, and I lost count of the plethora of nicknames you gave Sam.” He turned towards Dean, who was biting his lip. “The cutest until now being Sammich,” Cas told him. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if that changes within a day.”

Narrowing his eyes, Dean looked at Gabriel. “Really? Hm. But for now let’s stick to serious talk. Sam won’t be long.”

“Agreed,” Cas nodded. “I told you, Gabriel, that neither Winchester knew about their legacy until I told Dean. I trust you kept your promise?”

Pouting, Gabriel produced a sucker out of nowhere. “Yeah. I did. No walking on two legs until Samoose knows,” he groused and popped the sweet in his mouth.

Cas shook his head at his brother and stated: “Now  _ that _ is the cutest. Honestly, brother, you’re using more nicknames than ever. Are you feeling ok?”

Cocking his head and pretending to think, Dean nodded slowly. “I like that one though. Sam is as tall as a moose,” he conceded. “Anyway, Gabriel, I understand you need to work with Sam, create a bond of sorts, but please, let me handle the big reveal. Of both who we are, and who you are.”

That earned him a calculated smirk. “Yeah, good luck muttonhead. The only one who can tell a Witch they are their familiar, is said familiar. You can guess, and guess right, but you cannot tell them. That is something they need to feel for themselves.”

Of course. Dean rolled his shoulders. “Peachy. Ok, then. How about Cas and I do the revealing, and let Sammy do the math on you two? Cas seems to think you two are a good match, power-wise.”

Throwing a proud glance at Cas, and a knowing smirk at Dean, Gabriel sucked his sweet with relish. “He ain’t wrong,” the short guy agreed. “But that isn’t the only thing we need to be compatible in. Remember Zar and Atropos? Whooo! That was bad!” 

Gabriel was something else, and so right for Sam. The whole exaggerated moving, and expressive facial expressions, it all showed Gabriel to be a joker, a guy who could make any situation fun. Add in the slight lisp, and he was adorable. Dean could see how his brother would like that. He was a bit of a serious one, but underneath all that, he hid a playful 5-year-old, and he could definitely appreciate a good joke. With an internal wince, Dean remembered the candied apple which had turned out to be an onion and the bar of soap that Sam had covered with clear nail polish.

Shaking off the memories, Dean turned to Cas. “Zar and who?” he asked curiously. Cas licked his lips ever so lightly, making Dean want to press his own right there, where they were glistening with moisture.

“Atropos. Balthazar met a Witch, one perfect for his level of power,” Cas started. “But... she was uptight and strict. Balthazar, not so much.”

Scoffing, Gabriel sat on the bed. “Not so much?” he scathingly asked. “Cassie, if he were an angel, he’d be the angel of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. I once called him, and he really laid it on me. He dared accuse me of abusing my privilege to call at any time and then he said:” Gabriel’s voice took on a breezy, British accent and he looked like a pompous ass, staring down his nose at his hands. “‘Cousin, you’re interrupting me badly. I’m about to have a ménage à... What’s French for twelve?’ Can you believe him?”

Choking on his own spit, Dean gaped at Gabe, who shrugged. Cas blinked slowly, then tilted his head as he looked like he was figuring out the space-time continuum, “I believe that would be ‘douze’,” he stated, out of the blue.

Gabriel looked at him in awe. “How did you...” he started, then a shrewd expression flitted over his face. “Claire.” It was stated with finality.

Cas inclined his head to show he was right, and Dean fisted his hands in his jeans pockets to not stroke that stray lock of hair from his brow. “Indeed. She taught me some rudimentary French. But back to Balthazar and Atropos. Atropos and Balthazar were at odds in so many ways, and neither could find the grace within to accept the other’s perceived shortcomings. One day Atropos came home to find Balthazar in bed, with at least three naked persons.”

Dean blinked. “Wait...  _ persons? _ ” 

Gabriel chuckled and waggled his eyebrows lewdly. “Hells yeah! Balthy doesn’t care about gender. All that matters to him is how hot you are. Happens a lot with us Fae-born.” He might have looked cool with it, but Cas was decidedly red around the ears.

“That is not of import, Gabriel,” he snarled, a growl like an angry cat audible on the edge of hearing. Dean’s hand made its way to the back of his head and scritched softly. Cas dropped his head a bit and sighed. “Thank you, Dean,” he murmured, subtone now more of a purr.

“Any time, Cas,” Dean smiled warmly. “So, Zar and Atropos, what did she do?”

Gabriel’s grin was pure malice. “They fought, the persons scampering to save their miserable hides. But when a Witch and their familiar fall out... there’s no hiding. The blast took out a large chunk of the surrounding forest and is still barren today. I believe the locals call it ‘the Devil’s Tramping Ground’.”

That caught Dean’s attention. “Wait, what? ‘The Devil’s Tramping Ground’? In North Carolina? You’re joking! That thing is the effect of Zar and Atropos fighting? But it’s been around since before the War of Independence!”

Pulling a thinking pout, Gabriel glanced at the ceiling. “Sounds about right. Zar was pretty young still. The diameter has lessened a bit over time. But still. Zar settled down once he found the Campbells.”

The sound of water stopped and Dean looked around in alarm. When he looked back, two pairs of eyes were staring at him from quite a few inches lower. “Good job guys,” Dean whispered.

He picked up Cas and sat on his bed, petting him slowly. Cas purred and pushed his head against Dean’s hand. 

Whistling a bit of Blue Öyster Cult, Sam stepped out of the shower, wearing sweats and a loose shirt. Gabe whined softly until Sam picked him up and nuzzled his fur. “Who’s a good boy?” he cooed. Gabriel wriggled in his hold and lapped at his nose.

“Oh Gabriel! Gross!” Dean shuddered, making Sam raise his eyebrows.

“Gabriel? You named him?” he queried, trying his best to not end up soaked with doggy-kisses.

Oops! “Ehm... Yeah? He just seemed like a Gabriel,” Dean tried. 

Sam looked the corgi in its golden eyes. “Gabriel...” he tried the sound of it. “Gabriel... Gabe... I like it. You’re right, Dean!” He put Gabriel down and crawled in bed. “Night, jerk,” he said, smile audible in his words.

“Night, bitch,” Dean answered warmly.


	9. Chapter 9

When he woke, the soft fur tickling his cheek had him smile. “Mmmm. Morning.” he hummed on a stretch.

Chuckles told him Sam was awake too. “Morning, Dean. You’re chipper today. You haven’t even had coffee yet,” Sam remarked with a smirk, rubbing Gabriel’s head. The corgi threw him a doggy grin with his tongue lolling from the side. 

“Stop that, Gabriel. Not attractive at all,” Dean remarked offhand, as he petted Cas, who blinked his blue eyes kindly.  _ ‘Morning, Cas,’  _ Dean thought warmly. _ ‘Sleep well?’ _

_ “Good morning Dean,’  _ Cas replied, stretching. _ ‘I have slept exceptionally well, thank you. And you?’ _

Dean rubbed his cheek against the sleek, black body. “Mmm, fine,” he murmured in the furry side.

“What?” came Sam’s voice from the other bed. Dean glanced over, seeing Gabe’s belly and Sam’s hand rubbing it, and... 

“Oh God... Gabriel! Off! Please! That’s too much on an empty stomach with no coffee!” he groused, turning his head and scrunching his eyes shut. In his head, Cas laughed heartily.

He shot his familiar a glare, but Cas just winked at him with a smug expression.  _ ‘I’m so telling him everything after tonight!’ _ Dean groused at Cas.

Cas bumped his nose against Dean’s hand.  _ ‘A wise decision. After that, we can make our way to your teacher. If she is so inclined to take you two on as students, that is.’ _ His blue eyes shifted towards the other bed, where Gabe was trying to get under the covers with Sam.  _ ‘I shall talk with Gabriel about this. He knows her better than anyone.’ _

Dean sighed, then chucked a ball of socks at Sam. “Get that mutt off the bed, Sam. It’s unsanitary.”

Sunflower eyes on Cas, Sam threw him a bitchface. “You got Cas on there. Hypocrite, much?” he snarked. Petting Cas softly, Dean pretended to think. 

“No,” he answered smugly. “Because Cas doesn’t drool or slobber like Gabe, and he doesn’t have his junk hanging out like that either.” Pointy ears perked, and golden eyes narrowed, Gabriel’s head popped up from under the blankets to glare at Dean, who smirked at him.

Unaware of the silent battle going on, Sam picked up Gabe and rubbed his nose on the dog’s. “Ohhh isn’t Dean a grumpy man?” he cooed and Gabriel’s face grew from smite-worthy to smug in seconds. “Yeah... nasty old Dean. That cat isn’t as much fun as you, is he, Gabe?”

Cas made a soft ‘tch!’ noise and turned his back on them.  _ ‘I strongly agree with you on telling Sam, Dean. This is insufferable!’ _ Cas actually sounded pissed off, and Dean quickly scritched behind his ears to calm him. 

_ ‘You got that right, bud,’ _ he agreed wholeheartedly.  _ ‘How come Gabe knows this teacher better than anyone?’ _ he tried to distract Cas from their brothers being annoying.

Pushing his head up in Dean’s hand, Cas purred.  _ ‘Hmm. It’s because they were paired once...good scritch...’ _

Chuckling, Dean kept up his scritch.  _ ‘Paired? As in... a set. Like you and me? Witch/familiar bond stuff.’ _

Cas’ purr got deeper and he closed his eyes as he pushed up his head.  _ ‘Hm. Indeed. They were compatible, in a few ways, but they both agreed it wasn’t going to continue being ok. There were some... discrepancies in their bond. They mated, but... nothing.’ _

Dean nearly swallowed his tongue, and his hand twitched, causing Cas to snap open his eyes and pat his hand in warning with a paw, claws retracted. “Sorry, bud,” Dean offered out loud, as Sam threw him a questioning look. He shrugged at his baby brother and resumed his petting.

_ ‘Mated? As in... had sex? Why would that be a deal-breaker?’  _ he wondered.

Pleased with the renewed scritches, Cas purred louder.  _ ‘The mating as such should have strengthened the bond, but for them... it changed nothing. Physically, they were attracted to each other, but that was all. No deeper bonding happened.’ _ He turned his blue eyes towards his brother, and Sam.  _ ‘Even their telepathic bond was sketchy at best. Gabriel had to mentally shout at times. After the failed mating, they decided to part ways, but stay friends and keep in touch. It has panned out ok. Not all mispairings are destructive as Zar and Atropos.’ _

Dean swallowed hard, trying to get back to what had him flustered in the first place.  _ ‘So, is that erhm... mandatory? The mating?’ _ He tried his best to not let his inner turmoil show, or be audible in his thoughts.

Cas turned his blue eyes upward to catch Dean’s green ones.  _ ‘No. But it has been noted that such relations are often more powerful than platonic ones.’  _ He averted his eyes now.  _ ‘But it isn’t necessary. I can imagine having trouble with that. Especially since we are of the same gender.’ _

His mouth twitching in an uncertain smile, Dean sighed.  _ ‘That’s not it, bud. I don’t mind that in the slightest. I’m not sure about Sam though. I think he might get squicked by that. But if it isn’t a big thing, we’ll just have to see.’ _

With a butt of his head against Dean’s hand, Cas agreed.


	10. Chapter 10

The werewolf wasn’t going to be a problem.

Sam had laid the trap, acting as bait himself, much to Dean’s discomfort. But the freak had targeted tall mid-twenties guys, and Dean was now thirty, so… _‘Don’t fret, Dean. I know a freezing spell.’_ Cas purred in his mind. It didn’t really surprise Dean anymore. Sam had been adamant to lock the ‘animals’ in the room, but tenacious as they were, Dean was certain they’d both shifted to humans and made their way over to their Witches.

_‘Ok, bud. How do we do that?’_ he simply shot back. 

It was a warm chuckle that filled his head first. Affectionate and amused. _‘You need to imagine the object glued to the floor,’_ came Cas’ voice next. _‘Unable to move or lift a foot or paw. The spell itself is very simple. One word. Manéte.’_

That did sound easy. “Manéte,” Dean whispered under his breath. “Manéte, manéte.” 

Sam frowned at him. “Dude!” he hissed softly. “Shut up!” A soft rustling, accompanied by whuffing breaths, sounded off to their left.

Sam acted as if nothing was wrong, ostentatiously sitting against a tree, reading a book. The monster appeared through the underbrush, sniffing the air tentatively.

Sam didn’t move, except his right hand. That dropped limply to the forest floor, but Dean knew it was now curling around a silver knife.

_‘Cas?’_ he asked, tensed up for the hunt. 

_‘I am prepared, Dean. I will lend you my support.’_ Cas simply replied. Strange as it may have seemed, it actually relaxed Dean just a mite. He jumped forward, just as the werewolf got close to Sam.

“Manéte!!” Dean yelled, thrusting out his hand at the thing, using all his mental power to imagine the monster stuck to the Earth like it had turned into a werewolf-magnet. The monster snarled and tried to turn, but its feet were immobilized. It snorted in surprise and doubled over, unable to properly fall over. Warmth rushed Dean, and he shivered with excitement at his success.

Dean laughed easily. “Well, that was unexpected, huh fugly?”

Sam gaped at him, the knife slipping unheeded from his hand. “Dean?” he wavered, something undefinable in his eyes.

Dean waved at him. “Shush, Sammy. I’ll explain later.” He locked eyes with the whimpering and writhing monster. “Sorry. Gonna have to gank you now. You’re a killer, and I can’t let you walk on that.” With a light shrug, Dean shot the thing in its chest. It howled, crumpled, and shifted back to human. It was the bar-owner Dean had been chatting with just yesterday before Cas ever showed up. “Heh,” he scoffed, crouching next to the prone form. “Guess that settles my tab, huh?”

Cat shaped, Cas came sauntering over from under a nearby bush and hopped onto Dean’s shoulders. “Heya, buddy. Good job there!” Dean complimented him, as Cas rubbed his head all over Dean’s cheeks.

_‘You did wonderful as well, Dean,’_ he purred deeply. _‘It was quite a rush.’_

Dean smiled. “I know. Hunting gives quite the kick at times.” Cas just contently purred deeper.

Sam slowly stood, looking as if Dean was going to grow an extra head and try and eat him. “Dude... why are you talking to..” His voice petered out. “Is that... Cas?”

Beaming, and scratching Cas under his chin, Dean turned around to him.“Yeah! Isn’t it great?”

Rubbing his mouth, Sam sighed, seemingly getting his thoughts in order. “Dean,” he started. “You... how? What did you do to that werewolf?”

Pressing his face excitedly against Cas’ sleek fur, Dean hummed. _‘Cas, should we tell him now?’_ Damn, even to his own mind, he sounded either drunk, high, or sated, like after sex.

Cas purred in his mind, sounding satisfied as well. _‘Hmmmmrrrrr. Might as well do so. That wasn’t very subtle.’_

Prying his heavy eyes open, Dean smiled sluggishly. “See, Sammy... turns out mom... our mom, she was a Witch. A born Witch. And you and me, buddy... we got the juice too.”

Sam dropped his jaw. “What? Are you... high?” he accusingly asked. 

Still basking in that sated feeling, Dean kept smiling. “Nah,” he answered. “I dunno what happened. Mebbe... mebbe Cas can answer that.” He rubbed Cas’ chin again. “Huh, buddy? Can ya?”

Sam cocked his head in disbelief. “What? Cas? What the...” He stopped, revisited his line of questioning. “How did that cat get here?”

Dean chuckled. “Tha’s not a cat... ‘s my _familiar_. Show him, Cas.”

Cas giggled, jumped off Dean’s shoulders and morphed. As he watched, Dean thought he heard a muttered “Raspberries.” come from a tree behind them.

Sam blanched and scarpered for the fallen knife. “What the actual fuck, Dean!” he yelled, holding the knife up threateningly at Cas. 

The sated fog lifted a bit from Dean’s mind. “Holy... Sam! Stop that!” he scolded, rushing to shield an unstable wobbling Cas.

“Dean!” Sam snapped, shocking him further into lucidity. “It’s a goddamn _shifter_.”

Annoyed that Sam just didn’t listen, Dean frowned. “No, you dolt! We _told_ you...”

Sam curled his lip in a threat. “We? What _we,_ Dean? I don’t know him, and I don’t know what he did to you, but we, _us_ .” He motioned between them. “Dean... you and I, we’re not _Witches_ ... We’re _Hunters_ . We _hunt_ Witches. Now _move_ , so I can kill him.”


	11. Chapter 11

A loud snap sounded, and Dean and Cas swiveled their head towards it. Sam didn’t move.

“Well, you muttonheads,” came a familiar, if unexpected, voice. “You’ve done it now.”

Gabriel came sauntering into view, munching on a bar of chocolate.

“Gabriel?” Cas said, sounding soberer than he had in Dean’s head. “I thought you’d stay hidden?”

Pouting, Gabriel looked pensive. “I was,” he conceded. “But now,  _ you _ two buffoons have made me hex my Witch.” They both glanced at Sam, who looked oddly frozen indeed. “Now, go,” Gabe snapped. “Sit in a bar, eat at a diner, I don’t fucking care. Just leave me and Sam alone. Give me two hours at least. I need to right the wrongs you caused. I’m taking Samshine here to the motel. Pray I succeed in modifying this memory.” He glared at the both of them as he easily picked up the 200+ pound guy like he was a styrofoam statue. “Go on,” he urged. “I’m sure the magic high is sufficiently gone now.”

Dean and Cas stared sheepishly at each other. “Two hours,” Gabe urged and started walking.

Meekly, Dean walked back to the Impala, Cas in tow. “Do... do you wanna eat?” Dean hazarded. 

Cas shook his head. “I feel stupid and small. I have no desire for food at all.”

Dean nodded. “Me neither, buddy,” he admitted. 

He swung an arm around the trenchcoated shoulders. “Let’s go to the bar. Hell, the owner won’t mind.”

Cas’s face cleared up a bit. “Yes. Let’s!” he agreed and Dean opened the passenger door for him.

As soon as Dean sat, he shook his head, as if to clear it. “Whoo,” he breathed loudly. “Damn. What happened to us there, buddy? I feel like I drank a fifth of Jim Beam all in one go.”

Fidgeting with his coat, Cas didn’t answer.

With a scoff, Dean keyed the ignition. “Or maybe had a wild round or two in the sack. Man, I was drifting!” His cheeks almost luminous, Cas kept his blue eyes fixed on Baby’s dash. “You sounded kinda spaced too, pal,” Dean cajoled, side-eyeing Cas now. “Care to share?”

“Just drive, Dean,” Cas grumbled. “I need a stiff drink before I’m explaining that.”

It was with peaking concern that Dean put Baby in gear.

They were in three drinks each, and Cas was still glaring at his glass like it was full of horse piss instead of grade A booze. “Dude, Cas... what is wrong?” Dean demanded to know.

With a sigh, Cas set his drink down. “I was warned about this,” he started. “That when a witch and a familiar are very compatible, when they have a profound bond, the first time they consciously do magic together, willingly weaving their energies to create a result, they can get a bit... overwhelmed.”

Scoffing, Dean smirked. “A bit overwhelmed? Dude, I felt like I’ve just had a major orgasm or a hit of the best green in the country.”

Cas nodded, looking unhappy. “Yes, me too. And I fear me that if we don’t cultivate our bond, any time we use magic we will end up being useless for a time.”

Well, that sucked. Being a Hunter meant being on your toes even after ganking the monster of the week. Nodding, Dean picked up his drink again. “Ok, so... how do we do that?”

Bringing his glass to his lips, Cas scowled. “Practice. Little things. Levitation, duplicate fruit,” he grumbled around the lip of his glass, then drank. “This? This was a medium difficulty spell. Not too hard, but not very light either. But for us to start with it, was.... unwise.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Dean answered, sipping his beer. Since Cas had wanted the harder stuff, he had kept to beer. They sat in silence a time, each caught in their own thoughts. “Hey,” Dean said after Cas had another drink poured and was halfway through it. “D’you think Gabe and Sam will forgive us?”

“Sammykins won’t need to,” came Gabriel’s voice from behind him. “Me, on the other hand… I’m gonna need a whole lot of explaining to make me forgive you having to hex Sam. Twice.” 

Dean sat up, his hand clenched around his beer. “You what? What do you mean  _ twice?? _ ” In his mind he saw Sam shrunk to thimble-size, or permanently muted. Worry started to twist through his gut. 

Gabe gave him a raised eyebrow. “It means that I had to hex him to stop things escalating in the forest, and then again once I got him to the motel. I had to erase that bit of the hunt and replace it with a simpler version. Sam now believes the whole thing went according to plan. Which it should have.” He glared at both Dean and Cas. “Care to enlighten me on why it didn’t?”

Dean blushed, but Cas glared right back. “Big brother syndrome,” he growled. “Should strike a chord with you, Gabey.” The last word was laced with acid and sarcasm, making Dean raise his brows in surprise. “Dean wasn’t at all feeling ok with Sam being bait. I saw a solution and offered it. The after effect took me by surprise.”

Gabriel ordered a cocktail that was so luridly pink, it looked like diabetes made liquid. He took a long sip and sighed. “You forgot about the bond-high? Not like you, Cassie. You’re pretty knowledgeable about that stuff, bucko.”

Cas pouted at his drink and held his silence. Dean looked at him and worried his lip between his teeth.  _ ‘Cas? Are you ok?’ _ he asked carefully.

Cas downed his drink and licked his lips. Dean gulped.  _ ‘Yes. I’m not used to forgetting things. Especially important things like the bond-high. Why it slipped my mind is beyond me.’ _

_ ‘Maybe because we fell into this pretty much like it’s normal?’ _ Dean tried. Cas shrugged and Dean could feel the tension building under the trenchcoat. He turned to Gabriel, who was eyeing them with suspicion. “Can we go to the motel now?”

Gabriel sat in silence for a bit, then nodded. “Yeah. I guess we need to as well. Sam shouldn’t wake up alone.” Another suspicious glance at his companions and he slapped some bills on the counter. “Let’s go, dum-dums!”


	12. Chapter 12

Waking up was very different from yesterday. Cas had taken up residence at Dean’s feet, and not next to his head on the pillow. Add to that that Sam hadn’t woken up when they had gotten back from the bar. It had Dean worried, but Gabriel said Sam was ok, and he’d just slipped from enchanted sleep to normal sleep. Now, Dean could see Sam upright and petting Gabe’s head. “Morning Sammy. You sleep ok?” he tried for a smidge of normalcy.

“Like a log,” Sam answered, pulling his hair back for a bit. “Huh. It was a pretty normal hunt, so why I was so tuckered out beats me.”

Guilty feelings bubbling in his gut, Dean shrugged. “Maybe you were emotionally tired. You did hit Gabriel. You were pretty flustered about that.” 

Sam pondered that, scratching Gabe between the ears. “Yeah, I guess,” he conceded. “I don’t know why, but I feel like Gabe is important to me. And I just… I don’t know. I feel responsible for him.” 

There was his opening. “Yeah. Same with me and Cas.” Cas looked over his shoulder at him and blinked his blue eyes. 

_ ‘You do? You don’t think I’m imposing?’  _ His mental voice sounded genuinely surprised and a little in awe.

_ ‘What? Who said that?’ _ Dean retorted with heat.  _ ‘I- I like you, man. And I feel like we’re best buds already. Maybe… maybe even more.’  _ He knew he was blushing, but who cared? He took a stabilizing breath. “Sam, remember that day when you were six and I suddenly brought home a load of apples for pie?”

Sam shook his head in confusion. “Yeah, but what does that have to do with-” Dean held up his hand to stop him. 

“Just wait. I have a point. A few actually.” Shit, this wasn’t as easy as it had sounded. Dean looked at his own hands to keep his mind on track. “Look, do you remember me telling you I met a cute kitten that day?” Sam nodded. “Turns out, that was Cas. He is… not just any cat. He helped me grow those apples for you. Because, here’s the kicker: you and I can do that. Magic. Mom was a natural-born Witch. And so are we.” Dean peeked up to see what Sam did.

Sam sat frozen, just like yesterday. “A Witch?” he finally said. “Mom?” Dean nodded. “And we… you… and Cas?” Sam stared at the cat with suspicion.

“Cas is my familiar. He told me yesterday. And that we are Witches. Natural ones. We don’t need Demons to lend us power. We got our own. So no gross ingredients, and no Hell. Well, I think no hell…” He glanced at Cas, who shook his head.

“He… he  _ told you? _ ” Oh crap. Sam didn’t know about the shifting yet! If Cas shifted now, it would probably get the same reaction as yesterday. 

“Yes. Bear with me, Sammy,” Dean begged, motioning his hands placatingly. “Familiars are Fae descendant creatures. Oberon kicked them out of Avalon for helping natural Witches with their powers. To avoid getting caught, they changed shape into animals.” Sam sat back more. “But they are peaceful and they can have a strong bond with a Witch.”

“Change shape,” Sam carefully stated. “Like shift?” Dean nodded. “And you trust him?” Again, Dean confirmed. Sam narrowed his eyes at Cas and suddenly took a deep breath. “Alright. Prove it. Show me,” he ordered Cas. 

Dean wanted to object, but Cas eased his mind.  _ ‘Don’t worry, Dean. I’m safe. Gabriel won’t let Sam hurt me, even if he wants to bond with Sam.’  _ He sat up and stared straight at Sam. Sam stared back. And then he was staring at Cas’ belly because Cas simply changed.

“Hello,” he said. 

Sam looked stunned. “Hello?”

Cas tilted his head at Sam. “Yes.”

“Hello?!” Sam repeated, disbelief more clear. 

“Yes,” Cas sounded more unsure and threw Dean a worried glance. “That is still the correct term?”

Dean burst out laughing. “Alright, you two! Knock it off! Sam, this is Cas. Cas, Sam.” Two pairs of eyes turned to him, while Gabe was looking at the scene with a big doggy grin. “You satisfied, Sammy? Or should Cas and I perform a trick? Maybe… levitate the remote control?” 

“Dean,” Cas started, as Sam looked both horrified and intrigued. “Remember the last time.” Sam snapped his head towards his brother. 

“Last time? What happened last time, Dean?” he demanded to know. Dean scratched his neck embarrassedly, while Cas looked a bit guiltily at him. 

To assure Cas he didn’t mind, Dean shot him a wink first. “Well,” he then said to Sam, thinking hard to make sure he did  _ not _ let Sam in that he had been present. “We tried a spell that was… too much. Not too difficult, but when you have a brand-spanking-new bond like us, you best start off light as can be. When we combined our skills for a medium difficulty spell, we got kind of a power rush.” Dean shook his head at the memory. “Man, it was like I was drunk… or high. Either, both. Anyway, Cas and I decided to tone it down and keep it low-key for now.” 

Sam gaped at him. “High? You know…” He stopped, then shook his head. “Of course you know. Not like dad would notice, or mind, unless you were high while hunting… goddamnit, Dean.” He slumped on the bed, and Gabe pushed his head under Sam’s hand, ostentatiously asking for a scratch, but to those who knew, obviously trying to comfort Sam. “Yeah bud,” Sam sighed at him. “Dean is quite the character.” Gabe looked up at him with adoring eyes, but Sam yelped and leaped back. “No. No way! You did  _ not _ just talk to me in my mind…” he gasped, pushing away until he hit the wall. 

“Fuck,” Dean breathed.  _ ‘Did they just connect like we did yesterday?’ _ he asked Cas tentatively. Cas shrugged in an ‘I guess so’ way. “Perfect. Sam… Sammy! Hey!” He tapped Sam on his cheek to snap him out of his bug-eyed staring at the corgi. “Snap out of it, dude!” Sam blinked and his eyes slowly tracked to Dean. “That’s it, bud. Eyes on me and listen closely. Cas and I? We got a… connection. A bond. It is deep and we can talk without speaking.” 

Sam moved his mouth, eyes darting from Dean to Cas, to Gabe. Dean slowly nodded and stepped back. Sam gingerly stepped back to the bed, kneeled down and looked Gabe in the eyes. “You… you’re like Cas?” Gabe sighed and then nodded. Sam swallowed hard. “So… you got a human shape too?” Another nod and silence reigned for a bit. Then Sam snapped as he abruptly stood. “Duh! Of course, I want you to change! Don’t I deserve that?” 

Gabe shifted and sat Indian style on the messed bedding. “Of course you do, Sammich. Calm down. I… I’m just cautious.” He dragged a hand through his caramel locks. “I once met a witch who did not want to know my human side. They kept me doggy shaped for a long time. Until I ultimately just quit and walked out. Bad bond anyway.” 

Sam blanched, then blushed, then sank back on his knees. “That is not right. You are you, whatever shape you’re in. I think that about everyone and everything. Feel free to be yourself, Gabe. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want.” Gabriel bit his lip and hid his face. Cas assured Dean silently that Gabriel was hiding teary eyes. Dean smiled and, equally silent, thanked him for the update. “So,” Sam said, sitting at the table where he could see each of them in the same glance. “Witches… Familiars… Fill me in!”


	13. Chapter 13

The cottage was tucked away deep in the woods of Maine, and they had to leave Baby at the motel and hike seven miles to get to it. Dean was grumbling all the way, and his bad mood was worse because Cas and Gabe simply shifted and darted through the damn woods like wildlife. “Are we nearly there, guys? I think my left heel is blistering.” 

“Dinnae fash yersel’, Dearie!” a female voice suddenly rang out and in a poof of purple smoke, a lithe red-haired woman in flowing purple robes appeared. “Gabriel, would ya look at ye. Hav’nae aged a day.” 

Gabe shifted back and kissed the woman soundly on both cheeks, while Sam frowned. “Ro! Darling! Good to see you! You’re looking fine as well. Not a year over 30.” 

Ro, or, as Cas quickly enlightened Dean, Rowena, brushed him off. “Oh tish! Ye’re still an incorrigible flirt, aren’t ya? So, pray enlighten me: who are these strapping lads?” She eyed each of them with shrewd, green eyes. 

Gabriel introduced them. “Rowena, this Ken-doll is Dean Winchester, and that’s Castiel.” Rowena blinked rapidly at that.

“Yer brother? Are ye kiddin’? I thought he didnae bond?” She took another appraising look at Cas and Dean nearly growled. “Calm down, ye buffoon. You’ve obviously bonded with the angel. I wouldnae dream of tryin’ anything. And this hunk of man-meat, Gabriel?” she asked sizing Sam up like a ham. 

Gabriel sounded dead serious and a tad dangerous when he answered her. “Sam Winchester, Ro. He isn’t interested.” Rowena blinked slowly, looking at him from the corner of her eyes. 

“Oh,” she said knowingly. “It’s like that, eh? Alright then. You can tell me why you and your troupe of Witches came here.” The last line carried quite some steel.

Gabriel held up his hands placatingly. “Now, Ro,” he started. “No need to be rude. The Winchester brothers are the sons of Mary.” He cast her a pointed look. “Mary Winchester-Campbell.” 

Rowena instantly softened. “Och! Th’ bairns! How old were ye, Dean?” Dean blinked in surprise at the change in her demeanor. “When yer mother perished. What age were you?” Rowena clarified. 

Still a bit shook by the sudden switch, Dean rubbed his neck. “Four. I turned five just a few months later.” Rowena bit her lip and cupped his cheek. 

“Ach. ‘Tis a cruel thing to lose one’s mother at such a young age, especially with a younger sibling to care fer,” Rowena sadly stated. “But not knowin’...” Her voice bled out and a shrewd look came to her eyes. “Winchester, you said?”

Oh crap. Obviously sensing where this was going, Sam stepped up. Out of the two brothers, he was the one that always could smooth ruffled feathers, and Dean gladly let him. “Yes, and I know how this must look, Miss…”

Rowena looked slightly mollified and smiled at Sam. “MacLeod. Aye. Scottish to th’ molecule.” She motioned Sam to go on.

With a grateful little smile that showed his dimples, Sam picked up his thread. “Miss MacLeod. But our father, he never knew about mom being a Witch. He  _ did _ see something supernatural when she died, and that turned him into what you heard.”

Rowena purses her red painted lips. “True, But I  _ also _ heard that John Winchester taught his boys well, and with information that they gathered slapdash, which made them all the more dangerous. So I ask ye, Samuel William Winchester, are yer intentions good, or have ye duped these poor familiars into bringing ye to me?” She slowly flexed the fingers of her right hand.

Seeing the Witch threaten Sam like that had Dean forgetting all about letting Sam handle things. He forgot that Gabriel knew the woman, Hell, he forgot that Gabe was there! “Hold up, Madam Mim. We did nothing of the kind! Cas found me, and Gabe found Sam, and we only learned about mom in the last four days!”

Rowena has bristled at the moniker, but she relaxed her hand. “Is that so? So you boys know nothing of yer heritage?” She turned to Castiel. “You sense magic in this boy, tweety pie?” Cas nodded. “Natural magic?” Another nod. 

The Witch rounded on Gabriel with the same question. “Ro, calm yourself sugar,’ he sussed. “You know me, and you know my little mishaps. Would I lead dangerous Hunters here?” 

“Not willingly, no. Alright, dears. Why are you here? Castiel, mind telling me?” Rowena cocked her head at Cas and a spark of purple magic leaped from her finger to land on Cas’ nose. It fizzled, but nothing happened. “Ah. True familiar then. Can’t be too careful, dearies,” Rowena cooed. “ Y’ don’t live to be over three hundred years old by being rash. Just a little tip.” She booped Dean’s nose and turned around. “Come on in then,” she called as her cottage appeared on the edge of the clearing. “I have tea and crumpets!”

“Three hundred? But… you’re…” Dean ventured as they filed in behind the red-headed witch. He just didn’t understand what was going on here. Inside they gathered around a cozy-looking breakfast nook.

Rowena smiled as she poured tea into dainty little cups. “Ah... I am human, aye. But being a Witch with a familiar also prolonged my lifespan. One of the many lessons I will teach you boys. Gabriel, be a dear and grab the crumpets. You know where I keep them.” Gabe instantly stood and grabbed a tin from a kitchen cupboard. Sam watched him with a frown. 

“So, lads,” Rowena smiled, as they all sat and drank their tea and ate their, admittedly delicious, crumpets. “I take it you know that Gabriel and I were a pair at one time. And I gather that he is the one who told ye aboot my lessons. I have one very strict rule though: Any physical bonding is to be done outside of my home. I’m not running a house of ill repute.” Gabriel laughed, while Cas and the Winchesters gaped at her.


	14. Chapter 14

Lessons with Rowena were… an experience. She had them slowly work up to the bigger spells, and Dean was in awe at what he and Sam could actually  _ do _ . He was also in stitches when Sam and Gabe were sure they could handle a simple relocation spell before they were really ready. They walked around in a bond-high for hours, while Rowena elegantly shook her head at them. “One would think a familiar as… experienced as Gabriel would know when too much is too much. Castiel, be a dear and put the kettle on. These two need a little waking up. Three hours on a high is more than sufficient to imprint the lesson. Dean, get me some rosemary, ginger, and cinnamon.”

Still chuckling, Dean grabbed the herbs. “Are you going to enchant this?” he asked Rowena as he put the jars on the table. Rowena grabbed her mortar and pestle and shoved them at Dean.

She smiled and stepped back. “Nay, dear. You and Castiel are. I think it is time you found out yer vessel of power. Mine is mostly herbs, although I work with crystals too. Here… ye measure out yer herbs and spices, feeling the needed amount in yer gut. Castiel, stretch yer awareness to aid him…” 

Dean could sense Cas’ presence like a warm blanket, guiding him, drawing him back if he wanted to add more while in his gut it didn’t feel ok to do. “Dean, trust yourself. Not reason or logic, but yourself,” Cas rumbled from his place by the window. Dean smiled and hugged the familiar in his mind.  _ “Uhm… I felt that.” _ Cas’s thoughts sounded surprised.

Dean’s hand stilled. “What?” He blinked at Cas, and Cas looked back just as taken aback as Dean felt. It was clear that this wasn’t a thing that usually happened.

Rowena tapped the hand still poised to sprinkle a bit more rosemary into the mortar. “Ye ken play with that later on, Dearie. Telepathy can be a bit of a shock, I know,” she softly yet firmly said. 

Dean opened his mouth to tell her that Cas and he had jumped that hurdle a long time ago, when he sensed Cas’ unease through their bond.  _ ‘Why keep that a secret? One of the other two might have already told her about their mind-melding progress.’  _

Cas raised one eyebrow and Dean swallowed. Damn that was hot. He purposely licked his lips, watching how Cas’ pupils blew out like inkblots in water and feeling the lust curl in his own abdomen. A polite but pointed cough from Rowena snapped him out of it. “You’re right. Sorry, Ro. Back to the magic.” He dropped the rosemary and ground the herbs, while focusing his intent of lifting the high from Sam and Gabe onto the mixture. Cas’ power, still mixed with a hint of lust and longing, thrummed alongside his own.

Rowena shook her head and murmured something about a soundproofing spell for the night. Cas shot Dean a questioning look. Dean shrugged and added the herbs to the boiled water to steep.  _ ‘We’re gonna talk about this, Cas,’  _ he promised his sexy familiar. Cas shifted his butt around and licked his lips, while he kept his focus on the table. Dean gulped when another wave of arousal hit him. Oh, they  _ definitely _ needed to talk.


	15. Chapter 15

The tisane had snapped Gabe and Sam free in an instant, making Rowena praise Dean and Cas for their prowess. She then told the shamefaced pair of longhaired pillocks to get their act together and clear away the stuff Dean and her had used to make the concoction. “You two were the reason we had to get the stuff out in the first place,” Rowena scolded lightly. “Clear it away, and then meet me in the clearing behind the well. Only the two of ya. Dean and Cas deserved some rest after having to clean up your mess. Three hours on a bond-high.” She shook her flaming curls over her shoulder and stalked off in a huff. 

As soon as they were alone, Dean had to swallow hard. The bond with Cas was humming with all kinds of emotions, and it was very confusing and overwhelming for him. “Cas, bud.. tone down the emotions, will ya?”

Cas bit his lip and blushed adorably. “I- I can’t… feeling you, your emotions, like that… it’s very..” He didn't need to finish his sentence. Dean knew exactly what Cas felt, and he felt the same. It was like attraction and arousal looped between them. There was also something else… something softer yet more intense in the background, but with his hormones raging like this, Dean ignored it. Cas stepped into his personal space, so deep it was next to non-existent and locked those blue eyes on Dean’s. “You feel it too?” he breathed, eyes dark and wanting.

“Yes,” Dean answered with a sigh. He slowly slid a hand up Cas’ neck and cupped the soft hair in it, pulling Cas into a gentle kiss. Cas gave a soft, surprised sound and melted against Dean’s lips. Dean gave an answering moan and deepened the kiss, flicking his tongue against the seam of Cas’ lips.

Instantly Cas opened up and allowed Dean to slip his tongue in and dance with Cas’. “Mmmm,” he moaned, his gravelly voice impossibly deeper. “Dean..” Dean agreed and deepened the kiss even further. When they finally broke apart, they were both panting and flushed. “Dean,” Cas rumbled, his hands restlessly dancing under Dean’s flannel. “You were right. We need to talk about this…” Dean reluctantly replied.

“That was not what I was going to say, but, alas, you have a valid point.” Cas sounded disappointed, and when he let go, his hands lingered. “Being totally inexperienced means I need to proceed with caution and get information.” 

Dean bit his lip. Cas sounded like a robot, repeating lines it was programmed with, yet still he wanted to undress the guy and have his wicked way. _‘No… talk. Sexy times later,’_ he firmly told his libido. “Do you think it’s our bond, making us feel…” He petered out because his stupid mind filled in the blank with _‘like ripping your clothes off and taking you right there on the table.’_ He really needed to mind his thoughts, because Cas was looking flustered and blushed like a schoolgirl. “... this heavily about each other?”

Cas glanced at the table and swallowed hard. “Hmmm. I don’t think so. Aunt Amara never said the bond would make people…” He also faded out, but Dean heard it clear as a bell: _‘want to see if the freckles are everywhere and then want to lick every inch of freckled skin.’_ Dean swallowed hard. Now that was an image. “...feel attraction or lust, or love.” Cas finished, and the last word made Dean lick his lips, since a strong wave of anxiousness wafted from Cas. 

Dean wasn’t dumb. He never had been, but he just didn’t get a chance to study beyond his GED. So now he put two and two together. Oh. Ooohhh… He’d thought that soft, warm feeling was only his. He cupped Cas’ face with one hand, making those blue eyes look up at him. “Me too, Cas. Me too.” 

Cas whimpered and they were kissing again. This time both allowing the feelings to run amok within their bond. The kisses got more heated and Dean crowded Cas against the table. When his leg slid between Cas’, Cas moaned loudly. “Deaaannn. Hnnn. I… I want to do what you thought…” Cas rocked his hips up.

  
Somewhere in the back of his bond-high, lust-crazed mind, Dean knew that wouldn’t be happening. First off, even with Cas’ careful phrasing, Dean still caught on that the three hundred something old guy was a frikken virgin. Then there was the fact they didn’t have lube or protection. Cas might be fae descendant, Dean was definitely human and STDs still existed. Luckily there were other ways. He worked his way down the buttons of Cas’ shirt, popping them easily. “Mmmhhh. Lay down on the table, you gorgeous man,” he purred, pushing gently on Cas’ sternum. 

Cas keened softly and gave in to the pressure, slowly easing his back on the table. Lust, but also nervous apprehension thrummed through the bond. “I gotcha, Cas. You’re ok,” Dean promised. He kissed Cas softly on the cheek, then down his jaw, over his neck with a nip on his Adam’s apple and down the bared V of flesh between the slips of the white dress shirt. Cas moaned and writhed, restless hands flying from Dean’s back, to his hair, to his chest, and back to his hair.

Dean slowly undressed Cas, kissing every inch of skin he bared reverently. When he opened the slacks on him, Cas let go of a filthy moan. “Deaaaannnn. Feels so good. Hnnnn. Please… please?” Biting his lip, Dean carefully pulled the pants down, trying not to moan at the sight of Cas’ tented black boxer shorts. The fabric strained around the button, showing tantalizing glimpses of a flushed head, and was soaked in precome. 

Gods, did Dean want to ravish this man! Instead he mouthed through the soft cotton at the hard flesh. Cas arched up with a moan that rattled through Dean and his lust burned in Dean’s veins. “Fuck, babe… you look so good, lost to my touch… I’m gonna suck you off.” Cas just moaned and rolled his head around, but the spike in the arousal that flowed through the bond told Dean how much Cas wanted it.

With gentle but sure movements, the boxers got discarded and Dean feasted his eyes. Shit. The man was very well endowed! Dean’s mouth watered as he saw a bead of pre-come form. Without any preamble, he licked Cas from root to tip, lapping up that enticing droplet. “Hah. Dean… your mouth…” Cas babbled. Dean smirked at him and just slid his mouth over the throbbing flesh.

“AAAAHHHNNN!” Cas cried, arching up.

Dean felt the head slip right over his soft palette and his nose brushed the wiry pubic hairs at the root. He just knew that if Cas made him gag, he’d love it, but Cas would feel guilty. So he placed his hands on those sharp hip bones to keep Cas still. 

Their bond buzzed with want, need, and mounting arousal. Dean’s own dick grew and twitched in his too-tight jeans, but the unease became second to the burning desire to get Cas off. He sucked and licked and swirled his tongue, loving every moan Cas gave and every spike of lust in their bond. After a few more bobs of his head, Dean didn’t know which arousal came from who, only that the tension was building and building. Cas had digressed to mere moans and gasped versions of Dean’s name when all of a sudden they both locked up and the most intense orgasm ever crashed over them. 

Drifting back down from his high, Dean noticed two things. One: his chin was dripping with jizz and saliva and two: his jeans and underwear were ruined. Underneath him, Cas was panting and humming softly. “Mmm. So this is sex?” he queried in an extra rough voice. 

Dean chuckled as he used his shirt to wipe his face clean. “Part of it.” Oh wow. His own voice wasn’t any better. It was fucked out and rough from deepthroating. A spark of faded arousal traveled through their bond. “Hmmm,” Dean cooed. “But with this bond thing… holy shit, that’s a hundred times more fun!”

Entertainment joined the low simmering arousal and the overlaying feeling of warmth and love blanketed it all. “Hmh,” Cas rumbled. “It’ll be hard to lie to one another, won’t it?”

Dean kissed him, pouring his all into it, and feeling it returned. “Damn right. I don’t mind, though. There’s no need to lie, is there? I don’t think I would see the need to lie to you, Honeybee.” The kiss turned heated after that. “Hmmm. There are better places to be doing this,” Dean mumbled when he noticed his dick didn’t care about little things like refractory time. They cleaned up and decided to go to bed early. They needed it...


	16. Chapter 16

Sam and Gabe had teased them horribly, after they got back with Rowena and found their brothers soundly asleep, all entwined like octopi.

It took one arched brow and a cleared throat from their teacher to have the pair back off. “Ye’ll understand when yer own bond gets this deep, boys,” Rowena had stated and proceeded to have them practice harder and more often. She said it was to tighten their bond, but Dean couldn’t help but think it was a bit of punishment as well. 

When the day came that Sam and Gabe suddenly froze during a spell, Dean shot Cas a knowing smirk, which Cas returned with a dose of amusement through their bond. “Ro,” Dean said with an innocent air. “Shall you, me and Cas go and find that vervain? I think these two need some time to  _ practice _ .” He couldn’t stop the smirk that grew on his face.

Rowena tilted her head and blinked as she saw Sam and Gabriel stare at each other. “Och… again? You boys are quite the pair, aren’t ye?” She sighed. “Oh well, ‘t is what it is. Let’s get goin’ then…” She grabbed her cape and donned it with a flourish. 

Dean shot Cas a grin and told him  _ ‘wanna bet they’ll be sleeping off the afterglow when we get back?’  _

Cas smirked back.  _ ‘No. I’m guaranteed to lose. But I’m happy for them.’  _ Dean smiled and nodded his agreement as they left the cottage. When they returned, dual soft snores told them which room their brothers had managed to reach. “Oh. I guess I’m bunking with you, Dean,” Cas commented wryly.

Rowena sighed and hung up her cape. “Dinnea act like ‘t would be a burden, tweetie pie. I know you spent most of yer night times there already.” She finished that comment with a saucy wink, that made Dean laugh.

“Ro,” Dean asked one dreary day months later when both Cas and Gabe had opted to stay in their animal shape and doze in front of the fire. “Don’t you have a familiar?” The witch smiled and gave him one of her mysterious smiles. 

“Aye, I do,” she answered. “But she’s wise enough to not want to be around when I’m teaching. Teaching sometimes requires lending bumbling witches a hand. And she tends to overdo it. That teaches the new witch nothing, does it?” Dean and Sam, who sat at the breakfast nook with them, nodded. “But you’re learning fast and the bond with yer familiars is strong. I think we can call her in. She hates this weather, so she’ll love ye fer getting her into the dry.”

Not two seconds later, there was a tapping on the kitchen window and Rowena opened it to let in a beautiful, if drenched, blue jay. It hopped along the counter, right off the edge, and in its fall it transformed into a cute little redhead, wearing the most colorful clothing Dean had ever seen on one person. “Dude! Thank you!” she called and promptly punched him in the biceps.

“Now Charlene, behave. Ye ken that not all like the direct approach,” Rowena scolded, but it held no fire. Dean rubbed his arm because that little firecracker packed quite a punch. 

“Oh lighten up, Ro,” Charlene replied. “I’m sure green eyes don’t mind, and it’s Charlie, remember?”

She turned to Dean and Sam and gave a Vulcan salute. “What’s up, bitches?” Dean loved her already.

Dean sniggered at Rowena’s epic eye roll and replied. “Not much, just learning stuff from your witch there. I’m Dean.” Sam stood and extended his hand. “Sam, pleased to meet you, Charlie.” 

Two animal heads shot up and in no time Cas and Gabe were crowding the kitchen in their human forms. “Charlie!!!” Gabriel called and hugged her tight. Cas gave the girl a blinding smile and kissed her cheek.

Dean grew a little less fond of her as he felt the genuine joy Cas radiated in their bond, and he crossed his arms. Cas turned around and gave him a knowing smirk. “No need to be like that, Dean. I’m not going to cheat on you.” Heat rushed Dean’s face, but he felt the truth in Cas’ amused emotions.

Charlie recoiled and made a disgusted face. “EW! No way…. gross! I love Castiel, but like my brother, dude. He’s got all the wrong parts for me.” Oh. Ooohhh! Dean bit his lip, while Sam looked at Gabe apologetically.

Gabe chuckled and climbed Sam in his usual manner. “We said being pan was a thing often happening with our kind, sugar bear. Not that it was our default setting. If I’m honest, I think Cassie here is actually a demisexual. He never lusted after anyone but your big bro.”

Now  _ that _ was interesting information. Especially since the bond with Cas thrummed with adorably shy embarrassment. “Aw, I’m honored, Honeybee,” Dean softly said as he pulled Cas in a loving hug. Cas went easily as always, and Charlie watched the four of them with obviously high levels of ‘awwww’ in her grey eyes. Rowena put her slender arm around the girl’s shoulders and kissed her temple. Ah. Dean suddenly felt guilty. “We kept you from Ro… I’m sorry, Charlie. That was rude.”

Leaning into the tiny red-haired witch’s touch, Charlie smiled a little, buck-toothed, smile. “It’s fine, Dean. I was right outside. And we managed a little nookie now and then when you were herb gathering. All good.”


	17. Chapter 17

With Charlie in the mix, life got even more of a whirlwind, and soon the Winchesters had been at the little cottage for several years. The world outside rarely intruded, but when it did, it was often Charlie who brought in the news. This time she came in, feathers askew and a panicked look on her face. She landed, shifted and in an uncharacteristically serious voice said: “Ro, we need to talk. All of us.”

Dean sent out a quick thought to Cas, who was out with Gabe and Sam to gather mushrooms. Soon enough the whole gang sat gathered in the kitchen. “Give us the news, Red,” Dean urged.

Charlie sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “It’s bad. Three witches in one cottage, even with all of Rowena’s protection and cloaking, are too much. We’re getting noticed.” She looked around the group. “For a while now, I have been picking up increased… er… tourism. People roaming around our neck of the woods. So today I eavesdropped on a gang of teens. They were out looking for ‘the witches place’. The preternatural health of our woods is getting known, and I’m afraid it won’t be long before we attract Hunters.” 

“Then it’s obvious we have outstayed our welcome,” Dean said, grabbing Cas’ hand and linking their fingers. “We have learned so much from you, Ro. I’m sorry we have to leave so suddenly, but I think I speak for all of us when I say we want you safe.” The others all agreed. 

Rowena dabbed at her eyes with the tip of her sleeve. “I’m touched. I truly am. I’ll try and throw them off our scent. And then I think I’m going to relocate to Boca Raton. I hear th’ weather is nice there.” She hugged them tight and told them they were like her own kids, making them all shed a tear. 

They took turns hugging Charlie and Dean felt he was leaving behind an unexpected mother and a little sister he never knew he wanted. “Once we’re settled, we’ll contact you,” he promised both redheads. They made their way back to the motel, where Rowena lifted the spell that kept Baby safe in a pocket dimension. Once they were rolling, she and Charlie disappeared.

“Where to now, Dean-o?” Gabe asked after they hit the main roads. Sam kissed him on the head and he snuggled down into Sam’s embrace.

Dean shrugged off the slight envy that spiked. He wanted Cas to hug him like that too. Cas shot him a sweet little smile and a mental hug. It felt almost as good as a real one. Licking his lips, Dean answered. “Lawrence, Kansas, I guess… unless you or Cas know where mom’s parents are living now.”

“Actually,” Cas piped up. “I do. They never moved far. Head to Lebanon, Kansas, love.” A bit hurt that his maternal grandparents had lived so close, but never bothered to check up on their grandkids, Dean put his foot down.

Sam seemed to be working something out, his brow furrowed and his eyes in a million-mile stare. He grabbed his duffle and pulled out an old, battered journal. Under the curious and worried glances of both Gabe and Cas, he flicked through the pages. Suddenly he stopped and read. He snapped the book shut and rubbed his chin and mouth, making Gabe whine softly. “So get this,” Sam started. “Lebanon is where gran Millie lives. I knew I heard the name before. And from Dad, so I looked back in my old journal, and I found an old entry from years ago, where I mentioned that Dad didn't want to go near Lebanon because he’d disappointed his mother, who lived there.”

Dean sighed. That was too many coincidences for him to ignore. Living with Rowena, he’s learned to not skip such glaring build-ups of seemingly innocent things. “Lebanon it is then. Sammy, do your keyboard witchcraft and find gran Millie. Maybe we can find out more about Dad from her.” Sam nodded and pulled out his laptop. Gabriel grumbled about it and in protest, he shifted and curled up on the backseat, in the very corner away from Sam. Sam just smiled and kissed the corgi’s butt.

They made good time and found a motel in Lebanon to stay in while they were visiting. The address Sam had found was a nice house in a cul-de-sac. They had agreed that the familiars might best be in animal shape. They knew nothing about their paternal grandmother, and she might be… conservative in her views. so, with Gabe at their heels and Cas on Dean’s shoulder, they knocked on the door.

“I am not interested in… oh. You're not those pesky, bible thumping nutcases.” The door was opened by was a feisty, grey-haired lady with a straight back and warm eyes. “Hello, boys. How may I help you?” she said, eyeing Dean and Sam up. Dean licked his lips, and the lady tilted her head at him. “I have a grandson.. somewhere… that had that same nervous tic. And green eyes too.”

Sam swallowed hard, and Dean took a deep breath. “Mrs. Winchester?” The woman nodded. “Ok… So, I’m Dean, and this here is Sam. We’re…” He didn't get to finish his sentence. His grandmother suddenly pulled him into a hug. 

“John’s boys! Oh my word… I thought I would never know what happened to you!” The lady had tears in her eyes. She ushered them in, guiding their familiars along. “Sit, sit down, please. Would your pets like some water?” Both familiars perked up, making Gran Millie smile warmly. “I bet you would, wouldn’t you?” She puttered off, taking a ceramic bowl from a shelf. “You’re gonna have to share, but you don’t seem to mind each other.” Water ran and a moment later Dean’s mind went strangely silent. The bond with Cas was still there but somehow muted.

Alarmed, he stared at Sam, who blinked and looked equally distressed. “Can’t hear Cas anymore,” Dean whispered urgently. Sam bit his lip and nodded. So Gabe was muted too. “Damnit. What have you done to our pets?” Dean demanded as soon as Gran came back in.

The elderly lady gave him a surprised look. “Just gave them a drink, dear. I even remembered to use the special pet bowl.” She sounded proud, and totally nonplussed at their sudden questioning. 

“Special pet bowl? What special bowl?” Sam asked warily. Their grandmother shrugged. “Just a bowl Henry told me to always use for people’s pets. It’s awfully old, but pretty.” Sam was on his feet and in the kitchen in two strides. He came back with a white ceramic bowl, adorned with deep blue symbols. “They’re asleep… Look at these,” he said in his ‘found a clue’ tone, pointing at the scribbles. “Phoenician. That’s old, and going to take ages to translate. Especially since we don’t have research materials at hand.” 

Gran Millie’s eyes darted from Sam to Dean and back. “You know what this is?” she asked, expression suddenly shrewd and way less doddering. Dean narrowed his eyes at her. 

“No, not fully yet,” he cautiously answered, taking the bowl to examine it. He could feel the ancient magic buzz under his fingers, setting his teeth on edge. “But do you?” That earned him a proud smile.

Gran got up and walked to a cupboard where she took out an old, wooden box with a note attached to it. “No. I’m sorry, Dean. I don’t. For me, it is just a bowl to feed and water pets. It struck me as odd that some pets instantly fell asleep and their owners would start feeling uncomfortable. Your grandfather Henry knew about these things. This box got delivered after he disappeared.” She handed the box to Sam. “With it came a letter. It said to not look for Henry, but to give this box to any of his relatives who knew the symbols on the bowl were Phoenician. You’re the first ones ever. There is a letter for you too.” She went to a drawer and produced a yellowed envelope. “All of this is in Henry’s handwriting, so I take it he knew he would probably stay gone.” Sam got the letter too. “Please, don’t open it yet, son,” Millie begged. “I just want to spend time with the both of you, without mysterious things going on.”

That, they could relate to, so Sam pocketed the items and they had a congenial day talking to their grandmother. Of course, they fibbed a lot about their life since Millie seemed to be a civilian. They said their father had taken them along, traveling the country looking for jobs. That losing their mom had made John grief-stricken, easily angered and unable to concentrate on keeping a job. “Oh, I know about that all, darlings,” Millie answered. “John was here not five years ago. He wanted to know if either of you had contacted me.”

That surprised the brothers, but they didn’t show it. It seemed their father was at least alive five years ago. But would they want to see him? Their new life was so opposite of what John’s was. Dean felt sure John would not accept his boys being Witches, even though they’re natural ones. Let alone both of them being in a same-sex relationship. With their familiars no less! 

Gran Millie didn’t seem to be opposed, judging by her reaction when Sam accidentally let slip he had a boyfriend named Gabriel. “He sounds absolutely adorable! Please invite him over next time, Sam. I would love to meet him.” She turned to Dean with a knowing smile. “And the same goes for whoever is lucky enough to date you, Dean.” It had Dean bite down on his lip not to tear up. Gran Millie was such an amazing soul. How in the Hell had their dad come from this?

Sam and Dean gathered their still sleeping familiars and promised gran Millie to visit again soon. With their partners. Sam carefully took pictures of every angle of the Phoenician bowl, and after a lot of grandmotherly hugging, they left. “Dude, why did dad never take us here? Grandma Millie is amazing,” Sam said, as they drove off. Dean shrugged. “I guess he was too obsessed with the supernatural to remember he had a mom? I don’t know, Sammy. I just hope that our boyfriends will wake up, now we’re away from the bowl.”


	18. Chapter 18

They had to smuggle their familiars into the motel. Not because the motel didn’t allow them, but they had checked in with them being human, not animal shaped. Dean was worrying over Cas’ sleeping black body when all of a sudden it stirred and Cas opened his sleepy blue eyes.  _ ‘Oh. Hello, Dean. Why are we back at the motel? Where is your grandmother?”  _ Dean sank to his knees and heaved a trembling sigh. 

“Hey there, buddy,” he breathed out and cuddled the slender black cat. Cas huffed in surprise.  _ “Dean, I sense immense relief and residual worry in our bond. What happened? and why is Gabriel asleep in his animal form?’ _ Dean chuckled and sighed. “It looks like grandpa Henry was not uneducated in the ways of the supernatural. The bowl Gran gave you two water in? Decorated with Phoenician script. We think it is a spell that puts non-animal or -humans who drink from it to sleep. Grandpa had told Gran explicitly to use only that bowl for visiting pets. We also got a kind of inheritance, and Sam and I were waiting for you and Gabe to wake up to check it out.”

As if on cue, Sam bolted from his spot at the window, where he had been standing, pretending not to hover over Gabe. “Gabriel! Honeybuns, are you ok?” Dean snorted. Yeah, not hovering his bright green eyes. Gabriel yawned unabashedly and turned his golden whiskey eyes on Sam. “Of course I was worried, silly…” Sam admonished the dog. “You’re my..” Guiltily glancing at Dean, he reverted to their telepathic bond. Soft whufs came from Gabriel and he put his nose in Sam’s hand. It was damned cute.

Cas had shifted to his human form and tugged Dean into a hug. “I’m sorry we worried you, Dean. Had we known Phoenician, we wouldn’t have drunk.” Gabriel shifted too and crawled in Sam’s big arms while agreeing. “So,” Cas segwayed. “What are we going to do now? Check out the bowl, or check out your inheritance?”

Sam shot Dean a glance and even though they did not have a telepathic bond, Dean understood him perfectly. “The inheritance first. Who knows what old grandpa left us?” Sam pulled out the wooden box and slid it open. Inside there was a key, and a note. The note only held an address just outside Lebanon. “Guess we’re driving off again,” Dean hummed. They piled back into Baby and drove until they reached the address. 

“This should be it, guys,” Sam said, checking the paper twice again. “But only this kind of power station or something is here.” Dean looked at the key, then at the building that lay half-buried in the hill. “Looks fine to me. Key looks like it’s from the same era. So, let’s see if it fits the lock. If it doesn’t we’re in the wrong spot.”

The key fit, and it opened up a door into a very, very large, cavernous space. “Holy shit,” Gabe gasped. “Dude… you got a whole Batcave here! Look at it!” He gestured towards the balustrade, which oversaw a giant entrance hall. To the right, a metal staircase spiraled down to the mosaic inlay floor. Carefully, the group made their way down. “Maybe a little spell is in order?” Cas suggested. “Just to see if we are alone in this enormous place.” 

They pooled power and did the spell together. Dean could feel the spell flow away from them, like a tide. It pooled around the furniture, and into the adjacent hallways and rooms. they stood there for minutes, waiting for some reaction, some change, but it just kept going. After five minutes the first ripple returned, smooth and unchanged. Five more minutes and the spell had returned to them fully. not a disruption in it. “So it seems we’re alone. In a place that makes Walmart turn green with envy,” Gabe remarked. “Did you sense it going both up and down? This place has several floors and a tower. Not to mention a basement and several hidden rooms. I'm gonna have a ball exploring!”

Sam chuckled and Dean shook his head. The little ball of energy could not stay still very long, and they all knew it. “Sure thing, dude. Just be careful and keep in touch with Sammy. He’d be devastated if you got hurt.” Gabe winked and ran to the very first hallway he saw. With a sigh, Sam followed. “Guess it’s you and me, kitten…” Dean quipped, earning him a glare before Cas shifted and trotted off, tail high.  _ ‘What? What did I do?’ _ Dean desperately wondered, surprised by the exasperation in the bond. 

The Bunker, as the team aptly named their new home, was self-sustaining and huge. Sam was nerding out about the library, where he promptly found a book about ancient, Phoenician spellwork. Dean did the same about the indoor shooting range and the huge kitchen. The familiars were enthralled by the vast amounts of spell and potions ingredients. It took them all of a month to settle into a routine. Charlie flew over from Boca Raton to set up their tech, and like that, they had a home. A base of operations. Their lives were pretty much perfect.

Until they weren’t…


	19. Chapter 19

Cas had gone exploring again. There were still oodles of rooms on several levels they hadn’t opened yet. Cas had offered to find them, using a methodic, grid-like pattern. He had started on the top tiers and was now on the ground level. Most top tier rooms were study-related. From study cubbies to spell laboratories to an honest to the gods astronomy room with a telescope. 

But now he hadn’t returned, and Dean was getting worried. The bond was quiet, content, but more like Cas was sleeping. And as much as Cas was cat-like in most of his doings, catnaps were not his thing. “I’m gonna look for him. Last thing he said was that he thought I would love the most outside room in the west wing,” Dean told Sam and Gabe. They nodded and Gabe promised to keep Sam safe. Seemed he wasn’t too at ease with this either.

Walking through the door that opened up into the room Cas had mentioned, Dean’s jaw dropped. It wasn’t just a room, it was a whole frikken garage, filled to the brim with cars, none made any later than the nineteen fifties. There were a few open spots, but Dean could count at least 30 off the bat. The giant double doors that must be how you got your car in here, were ajar. Bad feeling tripling, Dean drew his gun as he carefully stepped out.

“Lower your piece, boy.” Dean’s body locked up. No. No way. He must be having a nightmare. “I gave you an order, Dean. Now lower it.” Determinedly not giving in to the gut instinct to do exactly what that gruff voice demanded, Dean turned. “Dad? What the…. Where the hell did you come from?”

John stood there, leaning against an old, sawed-off trunk. Dean’s heart clenched when he saw the unconscious form of a black cat draped on the stump. “Is that any way to talk to your old man?” John asked easily, not bothered by the fact that his eldest still had a gun trained on him. “I would have thought you’d be happy to see me.” John continued, straightening up and walking over. 

“What? No. Wait…” Dean tried to get his head clear. “You disappeared for frikken  _ years,  _ man. You didn’t bother to call, look us up, or anything. You left us dangling, wondering whether you were even alive at some point. And  _ now _ you show up? How did you even find us?”

With a careless shrug, John stopped walking. Close enough to grab Dean’s gun, so Dean took a few quick steps back. “I saw the car. I was in the neighborhood, investigating a Rougarou when I saw her standing on the side of the road here. Been hanging around to see if it was you and Sammy.” His pleasant demeanor suddenly vanished. “Imagine my surprise when I see two other guys with you. Guys you apparently  _ kiss?”  _ he added in disgust. Oh, crap.

“So?” Dean shot back, his eyes darting to Cas. “We’ve done way worse, and illegal, things in the name of Hunting, dad. Don’t tell me you’re homophobic.” John pursed his lips in anger. Dean knew he would have gotten the back of a hand by now if he hadn’t been keeping his gun on John. “Sam and I are happy with our boyfriends, dad. Accept it.”

A muscle ticked in John’s jaw, but he sauntered back to the stump. “Right. And are you and Sammy aware that at least your ‘boyfriend’ is a shifter?” The poisonous emphasis on boyfriend didn’t escape Dean, but it took second rank to the dread that filled him. 

Had John shot Cas with silver? Nervously scanning the lithe black body for blood, Dean steadied his aim on his father.

“You’re wrong, dad. Cas ain’t a shifter. Neither is Gabe.” Mentally, Dean prepared a simple spell. It was simple, but without Cas to back him up, it would be exhausting. But he had to try, or this could go wrong very fast.

“Hate to be the one to break it to ya, boy, but he is. And I know you know too. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be looking at that cat like it would kill you if it died. It ain’t dead, son. I’m not sure what kind of spell he and his friend put on you boys to make you believe you’re into guys all of a sudden, so I just sedated him.” John shot Cas a glare full of hate and disdain. “I know I didn’t raise any faggots.”

While John kept ranting about how Cas and Gabe must have enchanted his boys and how he would get them to ‘release’ his sons, Dean geared up to cast his spell. He imagined a little window opening up in the library where Sam was researching with Gabe. A window that showed them what was going on with Dean. “Aiteal…” he whispered and the spell cascaded through him, starting to siphon his energy to a spot behind John.

“What was that, boy?” John asked, but didn’t pursue it when Dean stubbornly set his jaw and didn’t answer. “I knew I should’ve checked up on you boys more. I asked my mom if she’d seen you. Knowing Sammy, he must have found out she lives nearby. Didn’t know this place was here though. Strange that I couldn’t pick the lock.,” he mused. “Doesn’t matter. I’m taking you and  _ that..”  _ He waved at Cas. “... with me to my motel and we are gonna have a nice talk.” 

Ice flooded Dean’s veins. John’s ‘talking’ usually involved a lot of knives, punches, and pain. “Dad… please don’t. It won’t help you find Azazel.”

John’s head snapped around. “You know about that? You know its name? Then why the hell aren’t you out there finding and killing the son of a bitch?” He stopped ranting, suddenly eerily calm. “It brainwashed you, didn’t it? It made you believe supernatural things and kissing guys are ok. I’m gonna get your head back on straight, boy. Now you get in the car and drive. I’m bringing that..” He pointed at Cas again. “... and if you so much as twitch, I’m snapping its neck.”

Feeling dizzy, because the ‘spyglass spell’ was draining his reserves, Dean tucked his gun in his belt and raised his hands. “Fine… I’m coming. Just don’t hurt Cas. Which motel do I drive to?” He prayed John would answer and soon, because he couldn’t keep the spell going very much longer. Just as his dad answered with “Prairie Winds, off the 36.” the energy drain snapped and Dean wobbled with the sudden lack of it. While John gathered up Cas, Dean quickly scribbled in the sand of the driveway. ‘Get help. Zar, gramps.’ He straightened just in time and walked to Baby, worried eyes on Cas’ limp body.


	20. Chapter 20

When his dad told him to dive to one of the furthest cabins of the motel, Dean took a shuddering breath. He’d really drained himself with the spyglass spell and he couldn’t think of any way to let Sam, or anyone else for that matter, know where to go. John unceremoniously dumped Cas on a bed, not caring if he would get hurt. “Once that thing wakes up, we are gonna have a nice talk. And since it is invested in you, you’re my leverage, son.” 

That chilled Dean to the bone. Would John actually torture  _ him _ to get Cas to talk? Numb, he sat on the chair when his dad asked him to, watching with leaden eyes as his own father tied his hands to the armrests and his legs to the chair legs. “Why are you doing this, dad?” he asked, hoping that Cas would stay under some time.

The look his dad sent him was cold and calculating. “If this one and that friend targeted you and Sammy, they  _ must _ know something about the demon who killed your mom. You know its name, so maybe you were told just enough to interest you, they hex you both and use you and Sammy for whatever nefarious reasons.” Dean gaped at him. “You’re nuts. Full on squirrel poo… Dad…” A punch to his cheek shut him up. It burned like fire, but Dean just glared at the man he used to call dad.

John was pacing, impatiently waiting for Cas to wake up. Dean followed him with scared eyes and a throbbing cheek. That punch had been damned hard. Dean had forgotten how hard handed his father could get. A different movement caught his eye and he was hard pressed not to grin. There was a big, green iguana looking through the window. It disappeared, only to be replaced by a cute black crow. The crow somehow looked pissed off when it saw Cas. It shrieked a caw and shook it’s feathers. John stopped and watched it for a second, before mumbling to himself and resuming his impatient pacing.

Dean fought not to smile. It sure looked like help was on the way. A knock came to the door and John peeked through the spyhole. “What?” he snarked, meaning he didn’t recognise the person on the other side. Dean smirked at his back. He was in for it now.

“Maintenance, sir. The person renting this cabin before you complained about a leaky heating pipe. It should be taken care of soon.” The voice was masculine and had an accent. Not British, not French, not Canadian. Dean deadpanned. His father stepped over to him in three strides and slit the duct tape from his wrists.

“You’re not saying a word,” John growled quietly. “Your hands stay on those armrests like they’re glued there, boy. A cat’s neck is easily snapped.” Dean nodded mutely. “Come in!” John called at the door. 

A lanky blonde guy stepped in, his grey eyes scanning the cabin in a second. They hardened when they hit the bed, and turned pleading when they found Dean. The guy was asking Dean with his eyes for a status update on Cas, obviously in the know of their bond. Dean smiled and infinitesimally shook his head to indicate nothing was really wrong. The man turned to John and tisked. “Well, darling man, you just landed your arse in a whole heap of trouble.” John narrowed his eyes at the man. “What?”

From the doorway a snarky female voice answered. “He means, you jackass, that you shouldn’t have come between Clarence and your boy.” A feisty looking, petite brunette strutted inside and beelined to Cas. She put a hand on his flank and sighed in relief. When she turned to John her dark eyes turned darker and her red painted lips scowled. “And you  _ definitely _ shouldn’t have hurt Clarence.”

Her red, claw-like nails contrasted with Cas’ fur in a way that just drew Dean’s eyes. It was almost as if he was bleeding there. A knot formed in Dean’s stomach. 

“Who the fuck do you people think you are, waltzing in like this?” John growled, his hand slipping towards the silver knife hidden in the waistband of his pants. “You’re trespassing!”

Dread tightened the knot in Dean’s stomach and he did the first thing that came to his mind. “Manéte!” he cried, casting towards his own father. John’s eyes widened and he tried to turn to Dean, but his body seemed fully glued to the floor and together. He could only turn his head.

Slowly, the woman started applauding. “Well now, pretty boy, aren’t you the gifted one? Even without Clarence awake to help you, you cast a full body bind. I’m impressed.” She cocked her head. “And kinda disappointed you’re taken.” She took a long dagger out of her boot and threw it at her companion.

The blonde man bent down and cut Dean’s legs free with it. When he straightened, he was smirking. “You got yourself a grandson to be proud of, Samuel.” Dean bit his lip and turned his eyes to the door. A tall, balding man stood there, his dark eyes concerned as he saw Dean. Dean smiled. Oh, gramps was definitely a witch. He hadn’t aged a day since Dean had last seen him decades ago.

“Samuel?” John sounded surprised and suspicious. “But you’re dead!” Something moved behind Samuel and tiny, blonde but very capable Deanna Campbell strode in. Her grey eyes narrowed when they landed on her son in-law. “Well, I know it was a shock to see your boy with Castiel, John, but I sure as hell hope you realise what you’ve done,” she said, looking him squarely in the eye. “Meg, hon, get my grandson a wet cloth for now. You and I will have to check him later. First we need to focus on Castiel.”

The petite brunette winked at her and stalked off to the bathroom, to return with a cold, damp towel she gently put on Dean's cheek. “Hiya. I’m Meg. I’ve been with your gran for a while now. She can fix anything physically wrong with anyone. We’ll get Clarence good as new for ya.”

Grateful, Dean took over holding the cloth to his cheek. “Thanks, Meg. Cas and Gabe told me about you and Zar. I’m glad you’re here.” She patted his good cheek and smirked. “I see why Clarence likes you. You’re good for him.” She stretched her back and joined Deanna at the bed.

“He’s just sleeping,” Deanna stated, her eyes scanning Cas’ tiny body as if she could see through it. “He is sedated, but that big oaf gave him a lot, bordering on too much. Help me flush it, will you Meg?” Meg dashed around the bed and took Deanna’s hands over Cas’ body. They closed their eyes and hummed in harmony. After a bit they chanted in unison: “Cheartaich neart, cheartaich neart, cheartaich neart.” A golden light grew under their joined hands and infused Cas. 

“Witches!!!” John shrieked. “You’re witches! Dean! Don’t just sit there! Kill them!” Dean finally stood from the chair John had bound him to. He walked over to his father and coldly looked him over.

A puzzled frown furrowed John’s brow, but Dean scowled at him. “Gee. Thanks for the news flash,  _ John _ . But in case you failed to pay attention:  _ I _ was the one casting the spell that binds you. So, yeah, not gonna do that. You, you fucking bigoted asshat, nearly killed my familiar.”

Before John could answer, an indignant shriek sounded through the cabin, followed by the sounds of struggling. “Gabe… no. No… Dean has got this… Sugarbear… no. Gran and Meg are tending to Cas. He’ll be ok.” Dean grinned. Sam. Good old, calm and collected Sam. He dropped the towel from his hand and turned to the tiny guy, struggling in Sam’s bearhug.

“Hey there, Gabe,” he started, but Sam gasped and suddenly let Gabriel go. Gabe just stood there, the eyes trained on John hard and sharp as citrines.

“Dean… your cheek… he did that?” Sam stammered, his hand hovering inches from Dean’s face. 

_ ‘Huh. It must look bad,’  _ Dean thought before shrugging it off like it was a fly. “I’m ok, Sammy. Don’t worry about me.” Sam ignored him and like two people sharing the same brain, he and Gabe walked past Dean and up to John.

Without preamble Sam swung and hit their father square on the jaw, while Gabe landed a sharp jab in his abdomen. John punched out a pained gasp and his head lolled. The punch had clearly knocked him out, but Dean’s spell still held his body in place. It was a comical effect.

“Dean?” Dean snapped his head around and ran to the bed, where Cas sat up groggily in his human form. Meg and Deanna strategically stepped aside to let them be.

“Cas… Oh sweeting, I was so scared when you didn’t wake up. Don’t you ever do that to me again!” Dean took that beloved face between his hands and kissed Cas deeply. He only stopped when several throats were cleared at the same time. “Alright already,” he groused goodnaturedly. “I thought we were going to die here. Cut me some slack.” The others laughed and Balthazar winked at Samuel, who nodded. 


	21. Chapter 21

The older witch and his cheeky familiar did a little magic and pretty soon glasses were filled with Bourye whiskey and passed around. Dean smirked at the Jackalope on the label. “Hey Sammy,” he quipped. “Remember when you wanted to hunt a Jackalope?”

Sam returned his smirk, but Samuel snapped his head up and Gabriel suddenly snuggled Sam. “Tell me you didn’t find one… please Samshine?” he begged. Taken aback, Sam hugged back, throwing Dean a confused look. 

Cas kissed Dean on the hair and hugged him. “Jackalopes are vicious and have a long memory, sweetheart. They tend to go for revenge ages after the event. And they will rip you apart. Unlike their cousins, the Sqroose, who just want your coffee, and tend to enjoy encouraging weirdness.” Dean gaped at him. “What?” Cas wondered. “Jackalopes and Sqroose are fae- creatures.”

Dean blinked. “Then I’m frikken ecstatic that dad told us Jackalopes don’t exist, and to get our heads on straight.” Sam agreed, getting full support from both Cas and Gabe. 

Samuel, however, glared at his unconscious son in-law. “Of all the stupid, half-assed things…” he muttered and aimed a spell at him. “I’m almost sorry to hex him.”

Deanna scowled. “Samuel, you might want to reconsider.” She glanced at her grandsons and her face grew soft, then hardened significantly. “Let’s keep Dean’s excellent body-bind on him, but wake him up and tell him all about us, and Mary. And their boys.  _ And _ rub his face in their homosexual, inter species relationships.” Dean started laughing. Wow, his gran was  _ fierce _ !

Samuel’s dark eyes started twinkling and he relaxed his spell. “Let him suffer a bit…  _ then _ erase today from his memory. I knew I loved you for all the right reasons, Deedee. Heal him up then. That’s your thing.” Dean waved his hand to get their attention.

“Might wanna erase a bit more. He only found us because he saw us pull up to the Bunker,” he said with a grimace. “And me kiss Cas. Sorry.”

His grandparents shrugged and promptly assured him it wasn’t his fault at all. John had always seemed one card short of a full deck. That was why they had objected to Mary’s relationship. Dean could understand that. 

“Wait,” Meg suddenly interrupted. “Bunker? As in Men of Letters HQ?” After looking through so many filing cabinets and storage rooms, they had seen enough to know that was exactly what they meant. 

“Yes. What were they? And will they ever return for their, admittedly awesome stuff?” Dean asked. Sam nodded along, still getting hugged by Gabe. Meg threw Cas and Gabe an exasperated look.

“You two clowns. Clarence… remember the lessons from Aunt Abby? The two human threats?” When Cas just blinked, she rolled her eyes magnificently and threw her hands up.

“I give up! The hunters and the MOL. The uneducated, solo running, but intuitive people and the educated, organised, but rule guided people.” She turned to Gabe. “Did you sucker him into missing class that day?”

Gabe shrugged guiltily and quickly hid behind Sam when Meg glared at him. Deanna blinked at Meg, and she pouted but fell silent.

“But the MOL in the States were all killed in those freak house fires in their chapter houses on initiation day,” Deanna said.

Dean pulled out the letter from his other grandfather and the wooden box with their front door key. With all that had happened, they never read the letter. Dean slit open the envelope and pulled the yellowed paper out. “Unless that happened after…” He scanned the letter with his eyes. “... August 17th 1958, I think Grandpa Henry wasn’t there.” 

**_Lebanon, Ks, August 17th 1958_ **

**_To the legacies that this letter may reach,_ **

**_I sincerely hope there are still Men of Letters left after that horrible night four days ago._ **

**_A demon had infiltrated the organisation, possessing my fellow initiate, Josie. She brutally murdered my whole chapter, but Larry, my mentor slipped me the key to the Archives before she snapped his neck. I managed to run, but I fear the demons will come for me._ **

**_I tried to seek shelter at other chapters, but it seems the demons beat me to it. I am almost certain there isn’t a chapter left in the United States. Every chapter house I visited, had burned to the ground._ **

**_I will leave this letter and the key in the hands of my beloved, but unwitting wife. As per Men of Letters rules, she has been kept unawares of the existence of the organisation._ **

**_I will leave her instructions that will ensure only legacies will get the key._ **

**_The demon was the kind to monologue while killing, and she was certain this or next generation will spawn the people needed to start the Apocalypse. To cripple the powers of Good, she said they’d eradicate the agents of it. I think she meant our organisation and the associated Hunter network._ **

**_Please brethren, take care and stop them._ **

**_Yours sincerely,_ **

**_Henry Winchester_ **

Dean read the letter aloud, and the room fell silent. “So that was what happened,” Samuel said, his dark eyes sad. “I didn’t like the MOL. They tended to watch and not act, but they did alert Hunters to the more serious cases, and told them whether a Witch was Natural or not. It kept our side safe. Then suddenly Hunters kill Natural Witches too, and there is no correction anymore. It forced us into hiding deeper.”

Sam frowned. “But what happened to Gramps? Did he survive?” He grabbed his tablet and cracked his fingers and his neck before doing his Google-fu. After a few minutes, his face fell. “He didn’t… look.” Sam turned the tablet around. 

“August 29th 1958, Local man found mauled to death. Coroner suspects stray grizzly bear or mountain lion.” Dean read. “Heh,” he scoffed. “Grizzly? Not smack dab in the middle of Kansas. Mountain lion? Which mountains? No.. this is demonic. He survived another 12 days though. More than 2 weeks total. I’m impressed!”

Sam looked pensive and cast a glance at Gabriel, who blinked in surprise. “Fuck…” he breathed. “Never thought of that. You’re right, Sambrosia.” Noticing how the others were watching him, waiting to be clued in, he blushed. “Sorry. Sam just thought that that whole apocalypse thing might be why Azazel went after their mom. Well, him actually. Mary just wouldn't let him near.”

Samuel pursed his lips in anger and Dean thought he’d never seen the old man be so scary. His dark eyes got impossibly darker and hard. “Azazel, you said? That’s news to Deanna and me. Balthazar, Meg, did either of you know this?”

The other familiars looked abashed. “We did, but we were ordered to not tell you,” Meg replied. “Naomi herself told us. It seems the others did not get such instructions.” She glared at Gabriel and a little less hard at Cas. “Please, Samuel,” she begged, her dark eyes darting between the older witches. “Deanna, don’t do anything rash. Azazel is a top level demon.”

Sam coughed. When all eyes were on him he smirked. “The archives, well the bit I could study in the short time we lived there, have several books on demons.” His smirk grew. “I bet we could find a way to end all of this before it even really begins.”


	22. Chapter 22

They started making plans, ignoring John who was waking up. “Let me go, you freaks!” he said, once he regained consciousness enough. He tried to wriggle, but Dean’s spell held, earning him a proud kiss from Cas, who was impressed at the strength of Dean’s casting without his help. 

“Leave him alone, you faerie!” John growled at that, to which Samuel raised a mocking brow. “I’m surprised you’re not appalled, old man,” John bit at his father in-law. “You were so rigid with Mary and me.” Samuel turned his back at John, who continued to spew insults and slurs.

It lasted until Deanna was fed up and called Meg over. “Help me out, dear?” she asked. Meg cocked her head in a bird like manner and after a few seconds she cackled loudly. Deanna smirked and stretched her hand out towards John. “Nasgadh teanga!”

John gagged mid sentence and how hard he may try, not a sound passed his lips. “Sorry,” Meg smiled apologetically. “He was getting on our nerves with his stupidity.” Dean bit his lip, but couldn’t hold it. He threw his head back and laughed.

Gabriel had watched the whole thing with shrewd eyes. He tugged the tablet towards him and shot Sam a look. Sam smiled. “What’s wrong, sugar bear?” he asked, and walked over.

Gabe tugged him close, kissed him and whispered: “Just need you close when I’m studying. Sit, my Jotun.” He stood and waited until Sam sat down on his chair. With a sly glance at John, whose face was an unattractive shade of puce, but still couldn’t talk, Gabe crawled on Sam’s lap, facing him. “There. Much better.” 

_‘Wiley trickster,’_ Dean thought with a smile, watching how his father closed his eyes to not see the blatant gayness in front of him. _‘Cas… wanna rile my old man up?’_ Cas’ head snapped up. A mischievous twinkle came to those cerulean eyes. _‘Just follow my lead.’_ Cas grinned devilishly.

Sauntering over to his pretty boyfriend slash familiar, Dean kept an eye on his father, who still had his eyes closed tightly. “Hey, Honeybee,” Dean purred, making all the heads in the room swivel around. “Wanna help me study too?” John drew his lips in a tight line.

“Mhmm, you need help then, stud?” Cas returned volley, his sexy voice even deeper and more gravelly, Dean licked his lips and thought about Trump in a tankini to keep his head clear.

“From you? Always.” He cast a glance around the room. Meg was full on grinning, Balthazar looked smug and gave him a thumbs up, Deanna and Samuel were both trying not to laugh out loud by biting respectively a lip and a full fist. Sam smirked and nodded his approval, while in his lap, Gabriel looked the most like an excited dog Dean had ever seen him while still human. “C’mere. Bring that cute butt over here.” Dean hummed, his voice sultry and fit for an adult movie or phonesex. A little flame of Cas’ arousal licked at their bond and Dean took a steadying breath. John screwed his eyes shut even tighter and he looked like he whimpered.

“Really? Should I sit in your lap too? Like Gabe and Sam?” Cas asked with an impish grin. The mischief bounding along the bond nearly cracked Dean’s mask, but he held on for the sake of revenge. His father needed this. Dean knew they’d wipe John’s memories of this later on, but somewhere deep down he hoped something took root. An idea came to him and he quickly relayed it to Cas, who responded eagerly.

“But how shall I study then, sir? It would be impractical.” The unprecedented submissive tone had six pairs of eyebrows shoot up. Dean winked at them and Cas’ shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Can I sit in your lap instead? Please, sir?”

Cas made a Herculean effort and managed to get his game face back on. “Alright then, pet,” he said with the air of an indulgent master, and patted his thigh. John cringed as much as the binding spell allowed. “But no more sassing me. You know I don’t like it.”

Dean grinned widely as he replied. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Please don’t be angry.” If John had possessed any magical powers, he would have burned them up trying to vanish from the spot. 

Cas bit his lip not to laugh, deadpanned and delivered his last. “I’m not angry, pet. I’m disappointed. This means tonight you don’t get to come. Instead you’re going to make my night memorable.” Dean’s “Yes, sir.” was only mumbled because he could hardly keep from laughing his ass off. That the whole exchange had turned his crank more than a bit was between him and Cas. And judging by the heat trickling along the bond, he wasn’t the only one.

Samuel cleared his throat and his eyes were twinkling. Deanna was shaking her head and kept her eyes firmly in the table top. “There are still others in the room, jerk,” Sam groused, but Dean saw his dimples, meaning he was biting back a big pile of laughter. 

“Alright. Enough of this,” Deanna said. “Meg, Zar, help Samuel and me, please.” Meg smirked and cracked her neck, while Zar languidly stretched. “Wipe away a week or two?” Deanna asked Dean, who thought about it and nodded. The older witches and their familiars joined hands in a circle and concentrated. A purple and golden light glowed, expanded and then contracted to a tiny glowing ball. Deanna looked up and at John. “Dìochuimhneachadh dà sheachdain gun a bhith a ’tilleadh!” 

The little ball shot at John and he threw his head back. Samuel regarded him like slime on a stone. “Cadal,” he calmly stated and John slumped. Samuel nodded in satisfaction and smiled briefly at Dean. “Unbind him, son. We’re gonna be long gone when he wakes. Maybe do our planning where the actual information is?” 

They left John, sleeping on the motel bed, and went to the Bunker to read up on demons and such. To avoid John seeing Baby, Dean parked her in the garage Cas has discovered. And if the two of them played more with that little thing they had started to rile John up, no-one knew. If they did, they didn’t mind or mention it.


	23. Chapter 23

**Quite a few years later**

Dean sauntered along the Main Street in Lebanon, Cas swaying on his shoulder. A couple of teens were being raucous a bit along the way and Dean smiled. _‘Dean, isn’t that Jack?’_

Dean looked closer and cussed. “Son of a bitch. Where the hell is Claire? She was supposed to be picking him up!” He strode on, Cas digging his claws in a bit to not topple off. “Hello, boys. What’s up?” Dean asked, quasi casual. 

One of the teens turned his head and smirked. “Nothing, old man.” Dean narrowed his eyes. Sassy teens were one thing that lit his wick, even after living with Claire for as long as he had. Cas has assured him that his twin Jimmy and his wife Amelia had not raised her to be this ornery. He blamed it on her losing them both in one go. Dean still hated Azazel’s guts for it. 

The short but brutal demon-witch war had taken many good witches and familiars. Dean and Sam, together with their grandparents, had run the operation from the Bunker. Not only Jimmy and Amelia got killed in the war, but also Jack’s mother, Kelly. She was a kind and gifted witch who knew the best spells to soothe any pain, physical or emotional. She had stumbled in, her tiny frame shaking and clad in torn and filthy clothes,carrying Jack in a bedraggled sling. She said the baby was fathered by her familiar, but refused to say who he was or what happened to him.

She lived long enough to teach Sam and Rowena most of her spells, but then she just collapsed one day while tending to the injured in the Bunker’s infirmary. Most witches and familiars didn’t want to have anything to do with her baby, with his mixed parentage and unknown powers. Dean and Sam, always the ones to stick up for the underdog, took him in. Now the boy had four loving dads, and two doting aunts in Ro and Charlie. 

Seeing their boy getting bullied by these self-entitled asses, made Dean’s blood boil. Cas, for all the calm and soothing energy he was trying to send Dean, wasn’t much better off. The calm had a nervous and angry edge. “Old man?” Dean raised his eyebrows, and Jack stepped aside. “I’m not as young as I used to be, definitely, but I’m sure your parents told you to respect those of another generation.” In his mind he gathered a spell. It was a rather innocent one, and he could sense Cas approving. 

Dean flexed the fingers of his right hand, curling and uncurling them. “Boys, you made my dads angry,” Jack said conversationally. “That is not a wise decision.” The others snarled at him to shut up, and Jack shrugged. “Okay. Your choice.” 

Dean cast his spell, ensuring that each of these boys would wake up feeling 80. It would only last a day. _‘You were lenient,’_ Cas purred in his mind. _‘I would have made it last a week.’_ Dean smirked, tickling Cas under his chin just like he knew the familiar loved.

“What’s with the cat? Are you a witch or something?” one of the boys taunted. Dean just smirked as he guided Jack away. “Oohh, look at thaaattt… big scary witch…” the kid continued. “Geesh. He acts like he’s the great Dean Winchester, and that’s Castiel.” Jack opened his mouth, but Dean shook his head minutely. The war had made common people acknowledge that monster stories were probably lore and the role the Winchester-Campbell coven had played in ending the war, was well known by all. For years, Dean, Cas, Sam or Gabe couldn’t show their faces without being swamped by grateful people. It had died down eventually, and they had slipped into the dusty pages of history books. They had managed to keep the kids out of it though. 

A door opened and a dark skinned guy stepped out, followed by three girls. One dark, one lighter and one fair skinned. Dean clicked his tongue. “Dean!” the man said, spreading his arms. “As I live and breathe, man! How’re you?” 

“Max, Alicia,” Dean nodded, hugging them both briefly, knowing Cas was a bit green eyed about Max’ over enthusiastic hugs. “Claire.” His voice had a clear ‘annoyed parent’ tone to it and Claire had the decency to look cowed. 

Her friend however looked impressed. “Claire…” she said, her dark locks bouncing around her head as she looked from Claire to Dean, to Cas. Claire shrugged. “Dude… you’re Castiel and Dean Winchester’s foster kid and you didn’t even _tell_ me?”

The bullies all gave little shocked gasps and exchanged worried glances. Dean gave them a sarcastic smile and a little wave. Claire didn’t even notice. She rolled her Kohl rimmed eyes and sighed. “Yeah Kaia. I didn’t. And this is exactly why. You’re so fangirling right now. It’s embarrassing. Me and Jack learned not to broadcast being Cas and Dean’s kids.” The bullies now looked at Jack as if he would bite their heads off. Jack smiled and waved at them.

“Can we take this inside, please?” Dean asked the twins. They quickly made their way back inside the coffee shop. A swift spell hid them from eyes and ears and Dean rounded on Claire. “Claire Novak, you know you have to pick up Jack on Tuesday. Sam and Gabe always busy and nine out of ten times Cas and I are helping them.”

Claire scoffed. “He’s fine, isn’t he?” Dean growled. Cas changed shape and guided him to a chair. “I think I’m going to take it from here, hon. Claire… Jack is only fine because we happened to need something from Rowena’s shop. Had we not been short on verveine…”

Claire blushed. “I’m so sorry, uncle Cas.” She threw him some grade A puppy eyes. “But I met Kaia today…” Kaia ducked her head a little and gave a shy smile.

“Oh,” Cas said, as if it explained the world. He nodded. “I see why you would be distracted.” Spluttering, Dean tried to make sense of this. Cas turned towards him and smiled. It was warm and laced with nostalgia, making their bond buzz with it. “Kaia is Claire’s witch. Her first one.” 

That _did_ explain all. Dean shook his head, “Okay. That’s understandable, but Claire, you need to keep an eye on your responsibilities too.” He nodded at their son. “Jack has the ability to get rid of the bullies, but his problem is that he doesn’t recognise the threat. So, invite Kaia along for lunch, and we can talk about this.” He turned to the Barnes twins. “Max, Alicia, thanks for keeping our girl safe.” He hugged them, and to his surprise, Cas did too. He smiled and pulled his husband in for a deep kiss.

“Eeeeewwww! You’d think that after three centuries, it would fade, but not with my foster dads,” Claire groused, but Dean could see the tears in her eyes. 

“Yeah, Yeah. Love you too, Claire-bear. Let's go home.”

  



End file.
